


Purely By Accident

by justqueen



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: F/M, Narnia - Alternate Universe, Prophecy, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:49:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 56
Words: 101,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26095162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justqueen/pseuds/justqueen
Summary: When sixteen year old Susan Pevensie stumbles (literally) into the magical land of Narnia, she receives a prophecy that will not only change her life but will also test her bravery and faith. Yet, she embraces it with no problem. Having the fate of the whole country resting upon her shoulders? Sure. No pressure.But what if she'll meet an annoying blonde-haired boy and his heart-melting black-haired twin (both Kings of Narnia, by the way) and get mixed up with their personal lives? Can she handle it?And what if the prophecy meant entirely different than what Susan and the whole land thought it would be?
Relationships: Caspian/Susan Pevensie, Edmund Pevensie & Susan Pevensie, Lucy Pevensie & Susan Pevensie, Peter/Susan Pevensie
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The Chronicles of Narnia is not mine and will never be mine. C.S. Lewis created this world and I just like to lose myself in it sometimes - scratch that, most of the time. 
> 
> A slight heads up - this work was COMPLETED way back 2019 and is cross-posted from another fanfiction site.
> 
> Another slight heads up - this will be extremely cliché because:
> 
> 1.) this has all been completely planned out (and first written) way back when I was still fourteen (now I'm twenty one) so bear with me and
> 
> 2.) I feel it's time that we embrace the cliché in our bodies.
> 
> [originally titled _Accidentally Falling_ ]

"Father," Aslan spoke, stepping into the Emperor's enormous personal quarters, the quarters he had been confined in for almost half a millenia now. "You have summoned me?"

Standing at the center of the room and staring straight into the pool in front of him with hands interlocked at his back, the Emperor turned around and smiled at his son. "Yes, my son."

Even at that distance, Aslan could clearly see that the smile did not quite reach his father's eyes.

The Great Lion had been expecting this. The moment he received word that his father, the powerful Emperor-Beyond-The-Sea, had summoned him to his country, he immediately knew that there was something wrong. For it was highly unusual that his father's trusted messenger shows up in the middle of the night, or what passes as night in that world Aslan was currently in, telling him in an urgent voice that the Emperor requests his presence.

He suspected that it must be about one of the worlds the both of them are watching. What else could be the reason of that urgent request? Although which world, Aslan wasn't quite sure.

"I have something..." the Emperor hesitated, as if weighing carefully the next word. "...important to tell you."

His father was in his human form, an old man with a heavily wrinkled face and blue eyes. The Emperor favored the form above all his other forms, Aslan observed. Maybe because its old, wise blue eyes reflected the ones his father's true form possesses.

Although, in that moment, his father's once twinkling, human eyes lost their sparkle.

Aslan padded to the Emperor's side, his huge cat paws against the polished marble floor leaving no noise in his wake.

The Emperor waved a hand over the pool. The pool glowed, enveloping the enormous room with a blinding, bluish light. A few seconds later, a reflection of a face appeared in the water. A face of a woman. Her eyes were glowing blue and her lips were moving, as if she was speaking in a trance.

"Zhalif," Aslan spoke, recognizing the woman. "She spoke a prophecy."

Zhalif was a Seer living in the Emperor's country. She and her sister, Zeya, were equally skilled in Divination but Zhalif foretells prophecies that can literally change worlds. It made her the most powerful Seer in existence. She foretells the rise and fall of worlds in the known cosmos. She predicts the future of the many worlds Aslan and the Emperor is watching over, speaking prophecies that come true in the least possible way they expected.

The last prophecy she spoke was eons ago. It was about the two brothers that would defeat the evil White Witch of Narnia and restore peace and prosperity to the land and its people.

It didn't unfold until two years ago.

The two brothers were Peter and Caspian. They defeated the White Witch-- admittedly the greatest and the most dangerous enemy Aslan had ever known-- left her powerless and with no form, and drove her remaining essence and her army of dark forces out of Narnia and planted the Tree of Protection on the courtyard of Narnia's capital, Cair Paravel, an apple tree that served as Narnia's barrier against her and other evil forces. They ended the Witch's five hundred year reign and, indeed, restored peace to the land and its neighboring countries.

"Yes," the Emperor answered, his eyes never leaving the glowing pool.

Three days ago, Aslan would have assured his father that this particular prophecy could happen for another two thousand years. Three days ago, he would have reminded his father that there are more dire and current matters at hand, like the unfolding of one of Zhalif's prophecy in the world Aslan was visiting before the Emperor's messenger summoned him to his presence.

Three days ago, Aslan would have told the Emperor that he shouldn't worry about this prophecy yet.

But that was three days ago.

"What did the prophecy speak about?" Aslan asked.

The Emperor didn't answer for a few moments. He merely continued to stare at the pool as if it completely mesmerized him. Then he waved his hand again and Zhalif's face disappeared, along with the bluish light. The room seemed darker than when Aslan entered it earlier.

"The prophecy spoke about three humans that will come to Narnia from another world."

He stopped for a moment, looking at the Lion.

"A Son of Adam and two Daughters of Eve. One of these two Daughters of Eve will be offered a choice, and her decision will either be Narnia's salvation or Narnia's destruction."

Aslan didn't respond for a few heartbeats, looking away from his father to stare out the floor-to-ceiling window dominating the far side of the room facing them and stared out the night sky.

Three days ago, the Great Lion and the Emperor received word from King Peter and King Caspian that Narnia's Tree of Protection was poisoned. The culprit behind the poisoning was caught and discovered to be a palace staff of Cair Paravel but was, all along, a minion of the White Witch. When asked whether the Witch was planning to take revenge on the Kings and to take back Narnia, the traitor didn't say a word. But when Aslan asked Zeya to take a glimpse of the Witch, she still could only see a faint and blurry vision of her, which meant that she was still powerless and with no physical form.

The last Aslan heard of the Tree of Protection was that the nature spirits of Narnia were using their healing powers to draw out the poison and heal it, but whether they were successful, Aslan didn't know yet.

Now, after hearing of yet another Great Prophecy, Aslan was sure that this was connected to the poisoning of the Tree and the White Witch.

And by the troubled look on the Emperor's face, Aslan was sure, too, that his father had the same thought.

Aslan couldn't help but feel afraid. Afraid for the Narnians. Because they had just gotten their land back after five hundred years under the Witch's rule. And now, after barely three years of freedom from the said Witch, another prophecy is foretelling that their land is on the verge of possible destruction?

But then, the Lion thought, there was hope. There was the Daughter of Eve. She will be Narnia's hope and light. And in his thousands of years of existence watching over thousands of worlds, Aslan always saw the light prevailing over darkness. Always.

This Daughter of Eve will be on their side, Aslan knew it without a wave of doubt. Humans have the purest of heart and intentions. Of course, Aslan knew that there are also other humans who have dark and stone cold hearts that could rival even those of the Witch. But Frank, the first King of Narnia that came to the land from another world had the purest of heart. And there's the Deep Magic that governs the lives of everything. It brought King Frank to this world because It knew that he would change Narnia, and he did. Surely, It wouldn't allow this Daughter of Eve to step foot to Narnia if It knew that she would destroy her?

But why was his father acting like he already knew there wasn't any hope? Like he knew Narnia was already doomed? Was there more of the prophecy that the Emperor wasn't telling him?

"We don't know who of the two Daughters of Eve will be given the choice," the Emperor said. "But we know that Jadis is still alive, however powerless and formless she may be. What remains of her dark forces are still at large. If she catches word of this prophecy..." the Emperor trailed off.

"She and her Black Magic knows no bounds." The Emperor continued. "She will do everything in her power to get her hands on these humans if she knows of this prophecy. We must not let that happen."

Why did Aslan got the feeling that _that_ wasn't really what troubled the Emperor the most? And why did the look on the Emperor's face said that the Witch already knew of this prophecy and that he knows it?

"I will spread word to my nature spirits," Aslan said. "Do not worry, Father. We will find these humans before our enemies do."

Although he worried that the Emperor might be hiding something from him.

***

"Susan, you're on my foot!"

"Edmund, move over!"

"Lucy, stop shoving!"

"My _toe_!"

"I'm not on your toe!"

" _O_ _w_!"

" _Mmph_!"

Susan Pevensie fell on her back on a forest floor.

Edmund Pevensie fell facefirst into solid ground.

Lucy Pevensie simply looked on, beaming, as her two elder siblings scrambled from the ground to get up and gaped around them with their mouths hanging half open.

"Impossible," Susan muttered under her breath.

They were in a _forest_.

A forest _inside_ a _wardrobe_.

"It's alright," Lucy said, trying very hard to hide her grin. "I'm sure it's just your imagination."

Edmund, an awestruck expression on his face, turned his gaze to his younger sister. Then he went over to her and pulled her against his side in a one arm hug. "I never doubted you for a second, Lu." He rustled her short, brown hair lightly.

"You didn't believe me at first, Edmund." the twelve year old girl rolled her eyes.

"Well, it wasn't there when you first showed us! What did you expect me to think?"

"That's _doubt_ , brother mine."

"Fine, maybe I did doubt you for a second there," Edmund said, sheepishly, looking down at Lucy. "I'm sorry."

Lucy smiled at her elder brother in answer, nodding her head lighly in acceptance of his apology.

They both turned their attention to their raven haired elder sister.

Susan was still gaping at their surroundings, her mind in overdrive and stuck in repeat on how _bloody_ impossible their current location is. She kept pinching herself to make sure it wasn't just a bizarre dream. She touched a nearby leaf to make sure that she wasn't just imagining all these. That she wasn't just in Professor Kirke's huge library immersed in a fantasy novel.

But no.

It was all utterly, without a doubt, very _real_.

Susan looked at both of her younger siblings. At her younger sister, who was smiling up at her, and at her younger brother, who had an arm slung around Lucy, looking like he had already come to terms that they were now in another world they found inside a wooden wardrobe.

Susan walked over to them and pulled Lucy in a tight hug. "I'm so sorry I didn't believe you." she muttered.

"It's alright, Su." Lucy replied, smiling against Susan's arms. "I understand. I felt the same way when I first got in."

"What is that?" Edmund asked, pointing at a lamppost standing in the middle of a clearing a few feet from them.

"It's a lamppost, brother dear," Susan answered, raising an eyebrow at the black haired Pevensie boy.

"I know what it is." Edmund responded, throwing Susan a look. "But -- what's it doing here? Didn't Lucy said that this world is like the ancient times of our world?"

"Yes," Lucy said, nodding enthusiastically, as if finding the fact of being in a world before electricity and technology incredibly exciting and fascinating. "But my friend, Mr. Tumnus, said that this lamppost has been here ever since this world existed."

"Huh," Edmund murmured, staring up again at the lamppost, at the bright and yellow light inside the lantern on top of the post. "That's strange."

Susan nodded her agreement. This place was indeed strange. She felt different somehow. But good different. It was as if the magicin the air, the same magic that brought her and her siblings in that world, was seeping through her veins and coursing through her body. It made her feel... _alive_.

"Lucy, where are we?" she turned to her sister. "What is this place?"

Edmund tore his eyes away from the lamppost, too, and looked at Lucy.

Lucy simply beamed at them.

"We're in Narnia, of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! <3


	2. Run-ins

Susan was having a nice day. Or as nice a day could ever be in that land her sister had discovered in a wardrobe.

Lucy had already taken her and Edmund to Mr. Tumnus, the faun Lucy had told them so much about who had become her friend. Edmund, who back in England had taken a great liking to the subject Greek and Roman mythology (which she never understood why; the very thought of those Olympian gods was enough to give her a headache), was very delighted to meet him.

A part of Susan wanted to go back home. But she knew that if Professor Kirke's caretaker would get her wrinkly, claw-like hands on the three of them she would skin them alive after what they had destroyed on the professor's study, which Susan thought was an exaggeration because it was just an old armor.

But another part of her wanted to stay. It wasn't everyday she'd find a world inside a wardrobe. She should at least take a look around. Also, as of that moment, Lucy and Edmund were too engrossed with Mr. Tumnus's stories back in his cozy little house that she doubted they even noticed her disappearing quietly out the faun's back door. Her siblings looked like they weren't planning on leaving any time soon.

And there's also the fact that she may have promised them that they would go with Mr. Tumnus to the castle Cair Paravel to meet the Kings the next day. She had no idea why she agreed to it, though. It may be because Lucy flashed her those brown eyes of hers that she just couldn't resist. Or maybe she just _wanted_ to meet these Kings. She was curious. Because when she asked Mr. Tumnus point blank what kind of species are the Kings, the faun merely gave her a knowing smile, his gray eyes twinkling.

She also didn't understand why Mr. Tumnus wanted to bring them to the Kings in the first place. Were they considered dangerous to the land because they came from another world? Or because the Kings had a mandate to bring to them anyone who don't look like Narnians, visitors from another world or not.

Lucy and Edmund were also curious about the Kings. Lucy bet Edmund the Kings are deers. Edmund bet Lucy they are wolves. Mr. Tumnus gave them his knowing smile again and said, "You'll see once we get to the castle. Until then, though, can you please not go out to the forest. It's dangerous..." then he added under his breath. "...even more now that the barrier is weakening."

The eldest Pevensie had no idea whether her siblings heard the faun saying that because they had resumed their banter about what species the Kings of Narnia are. But she definitely did.

Susan thought if it was a good idea to go to a castle in the strange world inside a wooden wardrobe with a faun she barely know. But... there was like a voice inside her head, telling her to go to Cair Paravel. Telling her that _this_ was why she even got in that world because she was _meant_ to go to Cair Paravel.

Susan felt different ever since she stepped foot in Narnia. Back at England, she had spent her sixteen years of existence feeling like she didn't belong. She was good at school, true, being one of the brightest students in her class, but she spent most of her time in the library, reading books. She was not what everybody would call an extroveet. She didn't have many friends.

But here, she felt more like... herself. Like the reason why she feel so awkward back in her world was because she belonged in _this_ world.

That was why she completely ignored Mr. Tumnus's warning not to go out and went out to take a walk. She wondered if the faun would be mad at her for doing so. She had known him for barely an hour but he was already one of the kindest person Susan knew.

The forest was called Lantern Waste, Susan discovered. Mr. Tumnus said they named it for the lamppost that had been shining over the forest ever since Narnia began. Even during that five hundred years of hard winter, the lamppost's light didn't go out even once.

She steered clear from the direction of the lamppost, though. She was afraid she'd stumble back to the wardrobe and leave her siblings behind. She remembered when Lucy got back to the Professor's house from her visit to Narnia and she tried to show her and Edmund the back of the wardrobe to prove that she was telling the truth. But all they found was the back of the wooden wardrobe. Lucy said it may have disappeared for a while, being a portal to another world and all. Susan was not planning to take that risk.

She was fairly enjoying her walk. She maintained a straight direction from Mr. Tumnus's house, though. Even though she ignored him when he said not to wander, she didn't want to get lost. She relished the breeze on her cheeks, the fresh air on her lungs, and the sound of rustling leaves around her.

Suddenly, she heard a loud snap to her right.

Susan whirled around, startled, her heart threatening to break out of her chest. But there was nothing there. Not even that small rabbit she had seen earlier when she got out of Mr. Tumnus's house. Only a boulder, large enough for someone to hide behind with.

Susan breathed slowly, trying to control her heartbeat while making a mental note to herself not to drink coffee anymore.

But then, another snap sounded to her left. And this time, it was accompanied by a growl. A growl that was _clearly_ not made by a human.

"Hello?" Susan called out, surprised that her voice didn't even shake the slightest even though her heartbeat was way out of control. She slowly walked closer to the direction she heard the snap came from. The logical part of her screamed furiously at what she was doing but it seemed like all rational thoughts left her completely.

"Hello?" she called out again.

No answer. She walked even closer.

"Hello, is anybody th--mmff!"

Susan felt a hand covering her mouth, interrupting her, and yanking her backwards to the boulder. She screamed but the hand muffled her voice. The hand, it seemed, belong to a human. Which was a good thing because if it wasn't, Susan surely would have fainted then and there.

"Mmff-- let go of me!" she screeched, yanking the hand away from her mouth. She whirled around, balling her fist, and was about to punch the person in the face... then she froze.

It was a boy.

A blonde-haired boy with startling sky blue eyes and pale white skin. He looked just as old as she was, sixteen, and a few inches taller than her. He was wearing brown trousers and a brown tunic over a pale blue long-sleeved shirt and brown boots. A sword was dangling at his side.

Susan had to admit the boy was quite good-looking, and that messy blonde-hair of his made him even more good looking. But at that moment, she was too mad, she didn't care.

"Why the _bloody hell_ did you do _that_?" she demanded.

The boy looked just as surprised as she was.

He raised an eyebrow. "I was saving your life, that's why," he answered. _Great_ , Susan thought. _He's British._ "Didn't you know that it--"

"I don't need your ruddy help." she snapped. She didn't mean to be rude (first impressions and all) but she couldn't help it. This boy nearly knocked all of her teeth off when he was "trying to save her life." And did she mention she could barely breathe through it all? Because, apparently, the boy's idea of "saving her life" meant dragging her behind a boulder by her face.

The boy scowled at her, looking her up from head to toe. "Fine. If you say so. But if I were you, I'd lower my voice. You could attract trouble with that awfully big mouth of yours."

Susan's jaw dropped at that, her blood beginning to rise.

She didn't care that she had just met him for barely five seconds. All that mattered was he called her a big mouth and _how dare he calls her that?_ "Listen here, you--"

And just then, as if her day could get any more strange, a Minotaur leapt from who-knows-where and landed a few feet from her and the boy, an axe in it's beefy hands. Its eyes were trained on her as if she was a delicious food it wanted to eat.

The Minotaur was seven feet tall with matching body and horns so huge. He was wearing nothing but a loincloth, the coarse, brown, _disgusting_ hair all over his body shown.

Susan screamed in terror and started to run but got tripped by a rock.

The boy stood his ground, however, and drew his sword but the Minotaur just swatted him aside like a fly. The creature continued advancing towards her.

Roaring, the beefy creature raised his axe and Susan closed her eyes, knowing that this would be her end.

"HEY!" the boy yelled behind the Minotaur.

The creature turned around to look at the boy, head tilting as if asking, _You not dead yet?_

The boy charged at the creature. The Minotaur brought down his axe but the boy leapt aside just in time. Again, it swung its axe but the boy ducked and slashed his sword to its beefy knees.

The Minotaur roared loudly, throwing it's head skyward. Then he slashed his sword at the boy but again, he leapt aside and avoided it.

If the fight between the blonde boy and the Minotaur lasted for a few seconds or a few minutes, Susan didn't notice. She was having trouble focusing. She was hyperventilating, her chest tightening. She couldn't feel her legs.

When she got her focus back, the blonde boy had the Minotaur on its knees and was slashing his sword on the creature's neck, cutting the Minotaur mid-roar.

The Minotaur fell at the boy's feet. Dead.

Susan sat unmoving on the ground, staring at the dead Minotaur a few feet from her. A _Minotaur_ ; a creature that she had heard only in stories.

The boy, panting, sheathed his sword and approached her. He took a hold of her arm and helped her to her feet.

"Tha--" Susan stuttered. "That's a--" Why couldn't she control her heartbeat?

"A Minotaur." the boy said simply, following her gaze at the dead creature on the forest groynd. Then he turned his blue gaze to her, scowled, and said, "I did told you to keep your mouth shut, didn't I? See what happened? You sent a bloody Minotaur after us."

Susan's jaw dropped for the second time, all the terror and hyperventilation she had felt one second ago rapidly evaporating to thin air. She tore her eyes away from the dead Minotaur and looked angrily at the boy. "Oh, so it's my fault?"

The boy rolled his blue eyes. "I'm just saying th--"

"How about you and you're melodramatic mouth-clasping thing?" she demanded.

"I was just trying--"

"If you hadn't done that, I wouldn't have reacted and--"

" _Reacted?"_ The boy repeated incredulously, as if it wasn't the word he had in mind for her behavior earlier.

"--screamed and--"

"Look, lady," the boy was mad now. "I just saved your life. Without me, that Minotaur would have chopped your head off. So, a little thank you would be nice?"

"Well, I didn't remember asking for your help!" she snapped.

"Lady," the boy said. "With that attitude and big mouth of yours, you really have a nice way in annoying people."

Susan stared at the boy, her vision going red. Forget the fact that he just saved her life. She wants to throttle his neck then and there.

"Who do you think you are, _mister_?" she demanded.

"Who are _you_?" the boy demanded back.

"SUSAN!"

Two terrified voices screamed as her siblings came running to her side. Lucy and Edmund froze for a moment at the sight of her with a stranger, and a dead Minotaur on their feet. Lucy ran over to her, clung to her very tight while Edmund proceeded to inspect the dead Minotaur on the ground. Her brother wasn't big on hugs. Mr. Tumnus came after them.

"Oh, my..." the faun gasped when he saw the dead creature.

Then, much to Susan's confusion, the faun knelt at the ground and said, "Your Majesty."

 _Your Majesty?_ Susan thought. Who was he talking about?

"Please, Mr. Tumnus," the boy approached the faun, smiling and helping him to his feet. Or hooves. "We're way past the kneeling and you know that."

"As you say so, Your Majesty," the faun replied, although his voice seemed to be in a light mocking tone.

"And haven't I already told you to call me--"

"Wait, wait, wait," Susan said, making a timeout gesture. She had had enough. Her head spun, confused. And the fact that a bloodthirsty Minotaur was about to take her head off not five minutes ago was _not_ helping. "Mr. Tumnus, you know this guy?"

"Well, of course." Mr. Tumnus looked at her, and that knowing-- almost _sly_ , really -- smile of his earlier played lightly on his lips again. "This is Peter the Magnificent. King of Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, and Emperor of the Lone Islands."


	3. Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again - Disney, Walden Media, and now NETFLIX, owns Narnia, not me. I'm merely someone who is very obsessed with this world for as long as I can remember and knew that if I wouldn't write a Narnia story of my own, I'd get a heartburn.
> 
> All grammatical errors are mine, though. (I'm not a native English speaker nor a creative writing major, you see.)

Susan's eyes widened.

She stared at the boy, who was now smirking at her. If she hadn't felt like she was burning with embarassment, she would have been annoyed by that smirk.

The boy that just saved her, the boy she just yelled at... is the _King_ of Narnia?

Yep, her day couldn't get any more strange.

When Mr. Tumnus mentioned the Kings, it didn't even cross her mind that they would be human beings. It wasn't her fault, she reasoned. Mr. Tumnus was constantly telling her and her siblings stories about the various creatures of the land so she just assumed that the Kings of Narnia would just be another ones of those Talking Beasts. She even sided with Edmund (silently, of course) against his bet with Lucy when he said the Kings would be wolves.

 _Or maybe a hound with two heads_ , she had thought, _making it possible for Narnia to have two Kings._

Them being humans? It was the last thing on her mind.

But coming face to face with _one_ of the said Kings-- who was blonde-haired and _very_ human, by the way-- she wanted to smack her forehead for her stupidity.

"Peter," Mr. Tumnus said, drawing the young King's attention to him and away from the eldest Pevensie. She made a mental note to thank the faun later because if he hadn't done that, Susan was sure she'd melt in a puddle of embarrassment then and there.

"These are the Pevensies," the faun gestured at the siblings. "Lucy, Edmund, and I believe you've already met Susan."

Lucy did a little curtsy. "Your Majesty."

Peter smiled as he walked over to her and ruffled her hair. "Call me Peter. You're a cute little girl, Lucy."

Lucy would glower at anyone who would call her a "cute little girl." Back in England, she had kicked a bully in the butt by calling her "the little orphan girl". Since then, Edmund and Susan got less over protective towards her after knowing she can hold her end against bullies.

But coming from this strange guy she just met, a King of Narnia or not, Lucy didn't find it irritating. Maybe it was because he had saved her sister's life and she couldn't manage to be mad at him. Or maybe because she has this comfortable feeling towards him that she couldn't explain. "Thank you," she smiled shyly up at Peter.

Peter approached Edmund, who was at the other side of Susan. The King noticed the raven-haired girl avoiding his gaze, even turning her head the other way when he got in front of Edmund. He had to bite his lip from smirking.

Peter patted Edmund's back, allowed his eyes to rove over the younger boy's physique, and said, "You have the build of a fighter, Edmund. How old are you?"

"Thirteen," Edmund replied.

The blonde-haired King smiled, his blue eyes sparkling. "You'll make a great swordsman, Ed. Just tell me if you want some swordfighting lessons and I'll gladly teach you myself."

Edmund smiled widely at that. Swordfighting lessons? Of course, he'd _want_ some!

Back at school in England, swordfighting was the only activity in their P.E. class that he enjoyed the most. Though their swords were like practically sticks compared to the one Peter was carrying with him, that didn't stop Edmund from practicing with it during his spare time. Somehow, holding a sword, even though it was so blunt it could barely snap a twig, comforted him. "Thanks, Peter," he said gratefully.

Peter turned his attention to Susan.

The eldest Pevensie bit her cheek inside her mouth and met his gaze.

She's pretty, Peter had to admit that. She had blue eyes that matched his own, and her raven hair cascaded down her shoulders. She has a pale, white skin tone, much paler than his. Freckles dotted her cheeks and nose.

Peter could see how she blushed when he looked at her and how she couldn't seem to hold his gaze. Peter was sure that the young lady was starting to feel embarassed and guilty for her behavior earlier. He fought the urge to laugh out loud.

Peter tried to hide his amused smile but couldn't. And in result, it made him look like he was giving the raven-haired girl a mischievous smile.

"My lady," he bent down a little (for Susan is a few inches shorter than him), took hold of her right hand, and kissed the back of it.

Susan's face felt hot. She found her throat getting dry, unable to find words to say. All she wanted in that moment was to run away and hide from this blonde-haired boy in front of her.

"After yelling at me after I saved your life, may I say it is a pleasure meeting you?" Peter said, looking at her very intently with that smile still etched on his face.

"Peter, would you like a cup of tea?" Mr. Tumnus asked, sensing the uncomfortable fidgets of the eldest Pevensie. "I would gladly make you some."

"Yes, please, Mr. Tumnus," the King replied, his eyes never leaving Susan. "If you would kindly lead the way."

Mr. Tumnus nodded, flashed a smile in Lucy's direction, turned around, and started to walk back to the direction of his house.

Peter inclined his head in farewell to Susan, his smug smile still etched on her lips. Then he flashed a genuine smile to Edmund and Lucy before he left, following Mr. Tumnus to his house.

Susan couldn't move a muscle. She stood stock still, staring at the retreating back of Peter.

Edmund and Lucy stared at her.

"Wow, Su." Lucy said in disbelief. "A King of Narnia saved your life."

"He was practically your knight in shining armor," Edmund added dramatically. "But you just yelled at him instead of thanking him. Classic."

"Cut it out, Edmund." Susan muttered. Yes, she was really rude for yelling at Peter instead of thanking him, but she didn't need to be reminded of that. Especially _not_ from her brother.

"You know," Edmund continued as if he didn't hear her. "There aren't many strangers out there who would risk their life for you, Su, believe me, and--"

"Shut. Up. Edmund." she hissed.

Susan started the walk towards Mr. Tumnus's house, marching. Her siblings trotting to catch up with her.

"What Edmund was trying to say is that--" Lucy said. "Maybe you should be a little bit grateful to Peter."

"You don't know the whole story, Lu." Susan said. "That Minotaur was partly his fault. If he didn't put his hand over my mouth and dragged me, I wouldn't have screamed."

"So?" Edmund asked. "He was just being your savior."

"He could've warned me in a much nicer way though, instead of dragging me by my face."

Edmund and Lucy had no response to that. They just looked at each other and shook their heads. They knew better than to reason with their sister. Especially now, when she seemed like she had already made up her mind and decided that she disliked King Peter.

When Mr. Tumnus's house came into view and the three of them could hear Peter and Mr. Tumnus's voices inside, Susan stopped walking.

She wasn't ready to come face to face with Peter again. Maybe if she was given a few minutes to collect herself, she'd be good. Or a few hours.

But she knew her siblings were right. She _should_ apologize to him. She couldn't shake off the bloodthirsty look that that Minotaur had given her and how his beefy hands were so impatient to strangle her. If Peter wasn't there... she shook her head mentally, not wanting to continue her line of thought.

But Susan didn't know what words to say without making a total fool of herself. She was worried that with her lack of words, Peter would laugh at her face, adding another point to her current state of embarrassment. Eloquence was a talent of hers but she didn't know why a blonde-hair guy from a land she had discovered in a wardrobe could make her tongue-tied.

 _He doesn't make you tongue-tied,_ a part of her said. _You just felt horribly embarrassed because you're such a big mouth._

Susan mentally groaned at that.

 _Come on, Susan,_ she thought to herself, _Saying sorry is not that bloody_ hard _!_

"You should apologize and thank him, you know." Lucy said softly. "If it wasn't for him..." her voice trailed off. "We would have lost our sister."

Susan looked briefly at Lucy. Her sister was looking at her as if she was still shaken at the thought of that Minotaur trying to kill her.

Susan put an around around Lucy, rubbing her shoulder softly and pulling her against her side. "I'm fine, Lu," she said. "And I am going to apologize _and_ thank Peter, don't worry."

"Who's worried?" Edmund muttered on the other side of Lucy.

Susan decided not to respond to that. Instead, she went to enter the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be updating on a regular at-least-twice-a-week basis starting next week. Please review. <3


	4. Mysteries

"What brought you here, Peter?" Mr. Tumnus asked the King of Narnia as he settled on the seat across from him.

"Aslan," Peter replied, sipping his tea. He had to admit, his friend the faun was really good at making one.

"He's in Cair Paravel?" the faun asked, surprised. Aslan rarely come to Narnia; only in hour of need.

"No," Peter replied, sensing the faun's tone of surprise. "Well, he was, last night. But if he left, I don't know. I left the castle early just before the break of dawn. He asked me to come here and bring you to Cair."

"Why?" Mr. Tumnus asked, although he had a hunch. Well, more than a hunch, actually. He knew it was because of those certain siblings that was out there in the woods right now.

Peter shrugged. "I don't know. He just said that he wanted to talk to you."

"And why would he ask you to come here yourself instead of sending other Narnians? Trumpkin would have no problem coming here. We're very good friends." Mr. Tumnus continued.

The young King chuckled at that. "Honestly Mr. Tumnus, I'm asking myself the same thing." He took another sip of his tea, savored the taste against his tongue, and asked, "Do you have any idea why Aslan wanted to talk to you?"

"About Lucy Pevensie, no doubt." Mr. Tumnus said quietly, fidgeting with the red scarf around his neck.

Peter scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"Aslan told us nature spirits to be alert and keep a watch out for any humans wandering in the forest." the faun answered.

"Why?" the King asked.

"I don't know. He just said that it's important. And we should immediately tell him if there are any humans wandering in Narnia. Especially humans that are... strange." Mr. Tumnus could still remember the way Aslan had looked when he gave them the order. His catlike eyes were worried that if Mr. Tumnus hadn't known him as a powerful entity, second only to his own father the Emperor-over-the-sea, he could almost say that the Lion was terrified.

Peter stared at the faun, surprised. How come he didn't know this? Aslan didn't tell him anything. Then again, he hadn't seen Aslan for two years, not since when he crowned him and his brother as Kings of Narnia, until practically the night before when he requested him to _personally_ escort Mr. Tumnus to Cair Paravel. He had been confused as to why Aslan would want him to go all the way to Lantern Waste to bring his friend to the castle. But he chose not to ask details. The Great Lion sounded so urgent that he decided not to press.

But what confused Peter more was why did Aslan tell Mr. Tumnus and other Narnians to keep watch for these humans but not him and Caspian?

_Maybe Caspian knows,_ he thought. But his brother told him nothing, too. If Caspian knew about it, then he would surely tell him. The both of them agreed that they won't keep secrets from each other. They're brothers, bestfriends, comrades, and Kings of Narnia. They need to work together to run the kingdom they were given. Two years of being Kings had proven that.

"Why," Mr. Tumnus's voice shook Peter out of his reverie. "Didn't he tell you?"

The King shook his head.

"Well, there must be a reason why he hid this from you," Mr. Tumnus said. "Aslan _always_ does things for a reason."

"Yeah, maybe," Peter nodded. "Anyway, what else did he say?"

Mr. Tumnus shrugged. "He just said that there would be three humans, and that it's important that we find them first before the others do."

"The others? The White Witch's minions?"

"Who else could it be? He said that these humans will be very important because the prophecy--"

Mr. Tumnus trailed off. He wasn't suppose to say that! Aslan gave them strict orders _not_ to mention the _prophecy_ to anyone! Anyone meaning the Kings of Narnia are not an exception. True, Aslan didn't tell them what it's about, but still, it must be really dangerous, considering the urgency on Aslan's face when he gave them the order.

Meanwhile, Peter's head snapped up at that.

"The prophecy?" he asked.

_Not another prophecy,_ he grimaced. The last prophecy was a big one, involving him, his brother, the White Witch, and Narnia. And he had lost so much to that prophecy. Peter wasn't sure if he was quite ready to face another one two years later after fulfilling the first.

Mr. Tumnus had no choice but to nod. He opened his mouth to say something but before he could, a voice behind Peter interrupted, "What prophecy?"

The young King turned around to see the nightmare he met not an hour ago.

Susan Pevensie was standing by the door.


	5. Departures

For a few seconds, Peter merely stared at the Daughter of Eve. It was then that he noticed the hazel flecks in her eyes, which he had initially thought matched his own blue orbs. He felt like he was staring into a miniature storm. 

They were attractive, Peter had to admit that. Like her.

But no matter how attractive this raven-haired Pevensie was, she still irked on his nerves. She was still that insufferable, ungrateful girl she saved from a Minotaur. He had saved her, and probably broke his shoulder after colliding hard with that tree when the Minotaur swatted him aside like a fly, and she didn't even give him a simple thank you. Was it that bloody hard to thank him for saving her from certain death?

No. He had no interest in annoying and ungrateful girls like that, thank you very much.

Susan stared back at him. Her guilt and her words of apology died in her throat urge when she looked at his blue eyes and found them glittering with mischief. Instead, she remembered how mad she was at him. His Annoying Majesty had called her a bigmouth. He deserved an upside smack on the head.

Edmund and Lucy appeared beside her. When the both of them saw the staring contest between Susan and Peter, they maintained a good distance from their sister, in case she would decide to strangle the King of Narnia.

At the sight of the younger Pevensies, Mr. Tumnus cleared his throat and said, "Nothing. King Peter and I were talking and--"

"I was wondering if the three of you would like to come with me to Cair Paravel." Peter interrupted the faun.

"Why?" Susan narrowed her eyes at the King, her blue eyes full of suspicion.

"Well--" Peter started, trying to find something reasonable to say. _Because the three of you might be the ones in a new prophecy I know nothing about but I'm fairly sure predicts danger and destruction?_ Yep, that would be the sort of welcoming news these siblings would want in entering a different world. "For one thing, I want to introduce you to my brother. And--"

"We'd love to come!" Lucy squealed, a wide smile plastered on her face. She looked up at her elder brother, brown eyes glistening.

"Well, this would be our only chance to look at a castle that is _not_ Buckingham Palace so, yeah, absolutely." Edmund grinned, matching his younger sister's smile.

"No," Susan said bluntly. "No way."

Four pairs of eyes stared at her. But Susan ignored the other two and turned her attention to her siblings. "I think we should go home."

Lucy's jaw dropped as she looked at her sister while Edmund stared at her in disbelief as if she had gone crazy.

"Su," Edmund said, slowly. "You know perfectly well that if we return to that _blasted_ house, Mrs. Macready will skin us alive! Or have you forgotten what she was threatening to do to us once she'd caught us?"

"And besides, you promised us that we would go and see Cair Paravel!" Lucy added.

"Yes, but--" Susan started to say but stopped. She knew she would lose if she would try to argue with her younger siblings. Especially when the two of them were on the same side. She didn't have the slightest idea why people thought of her as the stubborn one of the family when there are clearly _two_ others who were worse than her.

Then she looked at Peter. The blonde hair boy (King? Nah, she still wasn't ready to call him that) was looking at her expectantly but his blue eyes lost the mischief they had back at the clearing. He and Mr. Tumnus were keeping something from her and her siblings, she was sure of it. About a... prophecy? Back at England, Susan was always the curious one. She liked to stick her nose on things she find interesting. And now that she was in a world completely different,strange, and dangerous (judging from that murderous Minotaur she had the unfortune to meet) from the one she grew up in, she found that she just _had_ to be curious.

And besides, it felt like there was _something_ telling her, like a voice on the back of her head, that she _should_ go to Cair Paravel. And she had an inexplicable feeling inside her that everything would make sense once she'd get to Cair Paravel. Though what _everything_ meant, she didn't have even the slightest idea.

"Fine," Susan muttered.

Lucy and Edmund grinned broadly and gave each other a high five.

Susan narrowed her eyes at Peter again, giving him a nasty look. "Just know, if we'll get torn into bits, I'm blaming you." She crossed her arms.

"Fine," Peter gritted his teeth, returning the Daughter of Eve's glare. _What is her bloody problem?_ he thought.

"It's late," he continued. "We should leave now if we want to arrive at Cair Paravel before nightfall."

"But it's still morning, barely noon," Susan said. "Should we, at least, have a few seconds before we leave? That Minotaur--"

"It will be a very long ride to Cair," Peter said. "Besides, you weren't the one who got thrown aside and got _bruised_ and--"

"Well, _you_ weren't the one who was from a world where there are no Minotaurs lurking in the shadows--"

"Susan?" Mr. Tumnus interrupted, before the ravenhaired girl could spit at the King of Narnia's face. "I'm afraid, Peter is right. It is a _very_ long ride to the castle. And the sooner we leave the better, before the others could come."

" _Others_?" Lucy echoed, her smile slowly evaporating from her lips. "You mean, like the Minotaur?"

Mr. Tumnus nodded.

"Fine," Susan said, for the second time that morning.

"Okay," Peter said, mentally noting to thank Mr. Tumnus later for silencing the daughter of Eve. "I trust that you know how to ride a horse?" he asked the siblings.

"Of course, we know. We're from England." Susan answered, rolling her eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Right," Peter said, trying _very_ hard to control his emotions. Already, he dreaded the journey back to Cair Paravel. He could only hope he'd be able to rein in his annoyance and not leave her stranded in the middle of Lantern Waste.

He couldn't help but imagine what would his dear twin brother think of this Susan Pevensie.

***

When they arrived at a clearing about a few yards far from where the Minotaur attack happened, two horses were tied to a tree at the opposite side. One was a brown stallion and the other was a...

Susan caught her breath in awe.

It was a unicorn! A pure white unicorn.

She heard Lucy's voice squealing beside her as she caught sight of the unicorn. She and Edmund looked at Peter, as if asking for permission, and when the King nodded they both ran towards the unicorn, Mr. Tumnus chuckling behind them.

Susan didn't ran with them towards the unicorn but maybe it was because she was completely spellbound by the mere sight of the noble creature that her footsteps slowed. Peter was on her side and couldn't help himself from smiling at the look of pure awe on the Daughter of Eve's face. His royal steed has that effect on people.

The unicorn was a truly noble creature. It had hoofs of silver and had horn like pearl. Its long, silvery mane were like waves as it danced with the Narnian wind.

When Susan finally got to its side, she caught sight of its deep and beautiful eyes. Immediately, she knew she was already hopelessly inlove with the creature.

Peter looked at his companions sheepishly, having just realized that the two steeds were going to be a slight problem in their plans for journeying to Cair Paravel. "I thought I was bringing only Mr. Tumnus so--"

"It's alright, Peter," Lucy said, smiling brightly. "Edmund and I will ride together on this beauty." She ran her palm on the mane of the brown stallion.

Edmund nodded beside her. "She needs my expert supervision."

"I do not!"

"Yes, you do!"

"No, I _don't_!"

Mr. Tumnus looked at Peter assuredly, somehow managing to ignore the bickering of the two Pevensies. "I'll be fine, Peter. I'm not quite fond of horses, anyway."

"Are you sure, Mr. Tumnus?" the blonde-haired King asked worriedly. "It's a bit of a long way."

The kindly-faced faun shook his head, smiling. "Trust me, Your Majesty, I've been through worse."

Susan was still cradling the unicorn's nose and running her palms over the creature's shiny mane. When it slightly bowed his head to stroke its flat cheeks against her hands, Susan's chest seemed to melt. It was just so _beautiful_!

Peter appeared opposite Susan, stroking the other side of his unicorn's cheeks. "His name is Flisk." he said.

Susan looked up at him. He had his attention on the unicorn, looking at is so adoringly while his pale hands ran over its muzzle that she couldn't resist a small smile of her own. He seemed to love the unicorn, too.

"He's beautiful," she said.

"He is," he responded, meeting her gaze while still smiling subtly. His blue irises seemed to sparkle.

"And he's got a beautiful name, too. Who came up with it?"

"I did."

"Really? Who helped you?"

Peter's gaze seemed to narrow a little and he saw her fighting the urge to smirk. He rolled her eyes. And instead of falling for her annoying ways and respond with the same amount of sarcasm, he chose to shrug. Because he knew if he would give in, they'd be there forever.

Even with no saddle, Peter got on Flisk's back with no difficulty. He looked down at the raven-haired Daughter of Eve and offered her his hand. "Come on."

Susan's eyebrows scrunched in confusion. She looked around and when she saw Edmund and Lucy sitting on the brown stallion with Mr. Tumnus holding the stirrups of the said stallion and that there were _no other stallions on sight_ , it sank in to her brain.

"Me? With you? No way." she said.

"You want to walk all the way to Cair Paravel?" Peter shrugged carelessly, taking back his hand and stroked Flisk's mane. "Fine by me."

Susan looked up to her siblings on sitting atop the brown stallion. "I'm sure Ed won't mind--"

"Oh, no. Ed minds." Edmund interrupted her immediately, shaking his head. "I'm not switching."

The eldest Pevensie scowled at her younger brother. Edmund only grinned in response. In front of him, Lucy giggled.

Peter held out his hand to her once again, smirking.

Susan glared at his hands then at him. "How will I know you won't drop me?"

" _My Lady_ ," his voice was mockingly serious. "I could ride a horse even before I could _walk_."

" _Your Majesty_ ," she mimicked. "With that cocky attitude of yours, you really have a nice way in annoying people."

Peter rolled his eyes again. "Yeah, okay. Will you get on now? Don't worry. No matter how much I want to, I promise I won't drop you."

Susan wondered again how come His Annoying Majesty managed to persuade her to come to his castle when all she wanted to do was strangle him. Nevertheless, she summoned all her knowledge about horseback riding and took Peter's hand, heaving herself to Flisk's back. She clenched her hands to a fist on her lap, readying herself for the unicorn's movements. But Peter took hold of both of her arms and draped it around his waist.

"Oh, no," she said, taking back her arms hastily that she teetered. "Not a chance. I--"

Suddenly, the unicorn whinnied and reared on its hind legs. Susan screamed and grabbed hold of Peter, clinging to him so tight that Lucy would later tease her for looking so adorable while hugging Peter like that and Edmund would later congratulate her for giving the King a Heimlich maneuver even when he didn't need one and she would later walk out on them. But at that moment, Susan was so terrified she forgot to think.

Peter looked over his shoulder to smirk at her. "You were saying?" he mocked.

"Shut up," she snapped. But she didn't withdraw his arms around him, even though she wanted to push him off the unicorn.

 _Yep, she's really warming up to me,_ Peter thought, chuckling, as he spurred Flisk into a gallop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated twice today because it personally seemed wrong NOT to post this chapter along with the previous one. Please review. <3


	6. Apologies

The unicorn slowed to a trot a few hours later after they crossed a vast plain (the plains of Beruna, Peter had called it) and re-entered another forest, but Susan didn't withdraw her arms from Peter's waist. Although she want nothing more than to free her interlocked arms from his waist, she didn't want to fall off from the unicorn's back. She was afraid that the unicorn might sense her discomfort (she had read that steeds often have that ability so as to connect more with their riders) and decide to throw her off his back again. Susan didn't want to take that risk. She had already embarrassed herself enough in front of this blonde-haired King that she was practically hugging.

Susan's guilt was surfacing again. She wanted to apologize to Peter but she didn't know what to say. A couple of times, she looked hard at the back of his head and open her mouth to say she was sorry for her (admittedly) _mean_ behaviour, but she always found herself at loss for words. So she had no choice but to press her lips close and look away, brooding at her suddenly inarticulate self.

Trying to ease her feelings, Susan turned her gaze at Edmund and Lucy. They were a few feet ahead from her and Peter, laughing with Mr. Tumnus beside them. The faun seemed unfazed with the few miles they had covered. He kept talking animatedly with Susan's siblings as if he hadn't just been keeping up with them for the past few hours in his bare hooves.

Looking at her younger siblings' smiling faces, Susan couldn't help but be jealous of how well they were enjoying their ride.

Her guilt was slowly weighing her down every passing minute. She knew that if she'd still do nothing about it for next five seconds, she'd explode. So she mentally slapped herself, bit her lip hard, summoned the silver-tongued Susan Pevensie within her and said, "Peter?"

"Yes?" he replied.

"I just--" Susan swallowed. "That is-- I want to--" _Brilliant_ , she couldn't help but think. _Just brilliant, Susan Pevensie._ Frustrated, the eldest Pevensie sighed. "I want to say I'm sorry."

Peter turned his head briefly to his right side to flash her a grin. His cheek sunk, revealing a dimple. "Feeling guilty, are we?"

"Yes," Susan replied, voice only above a mumble and cheeks slowly going warm. "I shouldn't have yelled at you back there."

"Yeah, you shouldn't have." he agreed.

"And thank you for saving my life." Her words were coming more quickly now and her voice wasn't squeaky and mumbling anymore. "I wouldn't be breathing over here if it weren't for you."

Peter chuckled. "Honestly, if I knew you were this annoying young lady you turned out to be, I wouldn't have risked my neck to save you."

"Oh, really?" Susan raised her eyebrows, glaring at the back of his head. If she wasn't feeling so relieved that she had finally mustered her courage to do the thing she was supposed to do in that clearing after being saved by that Minotaur without making a total fool of herself, she would have easily countered that statement of his with similar amount of snark. And also, she didn't believe a single word he just said. Though he may be annoying and cocky, Susan could see it in his face that he would save _anyone_ because he was a good person.

"Nah," Peter answered. "You must know by now that I don't mean it."

Susan laughed. "Seriously," she said. "Thank you."

"Don't worry about it," Peter replied. "That's one of my job, after all; saving distressing damsels."

"But don't think, though, that I'm okay with your _mouth-clasping-and-dragging_ thing. That is so _not_ okay."

"That makes you the first."

"Really? The others actually _like_ that?"

"Well, they didn't complain about it."

"Wow. Should I expect these damsels in a line and vying for your affection when we arrive at Cair Paravel?"

Susan felt Peter squirming uncomfortably beneath her tight hold around his waist and she couldn't help but smirk. "Don't," he answered. "Because there are none."

The Daughter of Eve snorted and rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. I'm sure there are a lot of ladies out there waiting for you to, at least, _look_ at them. You're the King of Narnia--"

" _A_ King of Narnia," Peter interrupted, pulling his body forward to pat Flisk's mane. Susan didn't move as he did it. "I have a brother, remember? Caspian and I both shared the crown."

Susan didn't respond right away. Partly because Peter was still leaning over Flisk's neck, muttering something at the unicorn's ears, and (despite her unwavering tight grip on his hips) she was still afraid she might get thrown off and partly because she was contemplating the "two Kings" thing. How could a kingdom have two rulers sharing the same level of power? Two _Kings_? Shouldn't one of them be a Prince or a Duke?

Peter settled back to his sitting position in front of Susan and she had to admit that she might had released the breath she had been holding for the past few seconds.

"About that," Susan asked, steadying her voice so as not to show that she had been depriving herself of oxygen three seconds ago. "Who among you two have the higher position?"

"Like a High King, you mean?" Peter asked.

Perplexed, Susan's eyebrows rose up again. She wondered if _High King_ was really a title (because she had only read about in ancient myths of old England) but she decided not to ask her companion. Her brain hadn't fully recovered from the shock the murdering Minotaur gave her. She knew she would only get confused even more if she was given another mind-boggling information. "Yes, that." she answered instead.

"Both of us are equal, for now."

"For now?"

"The day Caspian and I were crowned, Aslan had said that one day one of us will become High King. He didn't say who, though, or when. Or how."

Susan could only nod. Apparently, things in that world were _much_ more different than in her world. For one thing, she didn't remember if England had a High King.

"Now that I've received the gratitude and apology I should have gotten earlier--" Peter said.

Susan rolled her eyes and snorted but chose not to respond sarcastically.

"--should we start all over again with the introductions?"

She was about to say that there was nothing left to introduce because all the important things there was to know about her and siblings were already covered by Mr. Tumnus that morning. But since Susan took a guess that they still have quite a distance to cover before reaching Cair Paravel, she figured they need the topic. "Certainly, _Your Majesty._ "

The blonde-haired King of Narnia laughed. "So, Susan Pevensie," he said, his voice formal. He turned his head briefly to the side once again to look at her over his shoulder. "Where are you from?"

"England, Your Royal Highness," she matched his tone. "Finchley, England."

"England? Finchley?" Peter asked, playing the words in his mouth as if they were alien to him.

Susan glanced at the back of his head. "You speak it as if you don't know it," she said.

"I don't," Peter responded. "Is it an undiscovered part of Calormen?"

"It's part of _Europe_ not Calor--" she stopped. "--whatnot. Anyway, I thought you came from there, too?"

"I've never heard of that place, Susan."

"But you sound British."

"Sound _what_?"

Susan decided not to expound on that. "Besides, aren't you human?"

"Yes, I'm human but I'm not from that place you're talking about."

"You are, Your Highness. You came from my world, too."

"I'm not, _My Lady_." Peter glanced over his shoulder once more to give Susan a look. "I was born here and I grew up here. I'm a Narnian."

Susan didn't respond. She pondered hard about what he said. She thought it was impossible for this King in front of her to be born in Narnia. After all, according to Mr. Tumnus' stories, the land always belonged to the Talking Beasts ever since the land was born. Unless of course, Peter was originally from that neighboring country of Narnia. _Archenland_ was it? Mr. Tumnus had mentioned that there were a lot of humans there. But where else could the humans come from other than _her world_? Unless there are also other worlds out there that are also populatee by humans.

Susan's brain swirled again so she decided not to overthink about Peter's heritage and other worlds or else she'd throw up.

The both of them were silent for a while. Susan could hear Lucy's excited voice asking Mr. Tumnus if he knew any talking rabbits and Edmund scolding the youngest Pevensie that unless she want to find herself falling facefirst to the ground, she'd better sit up straight on the saddle.

"I still don't understand," Peter muttered quietly.

Susan scrunched her eyebrows. "What?"

Peter didn't answer for a few seconds. Susan almost pulled her head forward over his shoulder to look at his face but thought it weird. So she settled on glaring at the back of the King's head.

"I still don't understand," Peter said. "How that Minotaur got inside Narnia's borders and why it wanted to kill you."


	7. Speculations

Susan's stomach squirmed involuntarily at the change of topic.

"Good question," she nodded. "I'm asking myself the same thing."

"I mean," Peter said. The back of his neck was up straight and judging by the way how his voice sounded like he didn't hear Susan's words, he seemed to be looking straight ahead absentmindedly. "It looked like it didn't notice me. Or even know me. _Me._ Of course, it's a Minotaur so why should I expect some recognition from the brute? But still..."

Peter's voice seemed to fade into the background in Susan's head as she pondered at his words. She looked back at the unpleasant event that happened to her only a few hours ago. She remembered how the huge, beefy creature advanced murderously at her and how its paralyzing eyes were fixed on her. Then she remembered how the Minotaur had its full attention on her and _only_ her and how it swatted Peter aside, not even giving him a second glance to make sure he was dead. The Minotaur continued advancing towards her as if it was there with the sole purpose of--

Susan froze.

\-- _her_.

She felt dizzy. Her thighs shook involuntarily. Her grip around Peter's waist tightened. Her hands that were clasped on his stomach, felt clammy and sweaty.

 _The Minotaur was sent there to kill_ you, her brain managed to annoyingly make it official in her head despite the dizziness that she felt.

 _But that's_ _ridiculous_ , a small part of her countered. _I've never met anyone besides Mr. Tumnus and Peter the Magnificent._ _And_ _i_ _t's_ _barely even a day! Who could I have possibly offended that fast?_

"You said you're from a place called _Finchley_?" Peter asked in front of her, jerking her back to the present and interrupting her terrifying train of thought. She felt slightly grateful to the blonde haired King.

"Yes." Susan wished her voice didn't come out as a nervous squeak.

"From another world?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, his head slightly tilting back to look at her behind him again. "You're not lying?"

"Yes, I am _perfectly_ sure about that." Susan, despite her racing heartbeat, couldn't help but rolling her eyes. "And why would I lie?"

Peter didn't answer.

Aslan. Mr. Tumnus. The Minotaur. Prophecy.

If he had any tinge of doubt that Susan and her siblings had anything to do with the new prophecy, now he was sure. Why else would Aslan instruct the nature spirits to keep a look out of humans wandering in Narnia and keep it a secret to him and Caspian? Why else would Aslan want to talk to Mr. Tumnus and send him to the fauns' house and personally escort him back to Cair Paravel when Peter knew the Lion would have no difficulty in appearing in Lantern Waste himself? And why else would a Minotaur, a minion of an enemy who no one hasn't seen nor heard for two years, conveniently showed up in a place where the humans from another world appeared?

"Peter?" Susan's voice interrupted his thoughts.

The blonde-haired King took a deep breath. He knew that if he'd voice his realization out loud, he'd scare Susan. She had just arrived in a completely strange and different world. And she'd find out that her and her siblings fate are tied with this said completely strange and different world which also mean a great deal amount of pain in their futures (possibly; prophecies almost always mean pain) she'd probably take Edmund and Lucy immediately back to their home world. He wouldn't blame her.

"My Lady," Peter said slowly. "I got the feeling that the Minotaur wasn't there by coincidence."

"I got the same feeling, too." Susan answered, a few silent seconds later during which Peter suspected she'd do what he had predicted she would do. Her calm, small voice surprised him.

"I thought bloodthirsty Minotaurs are very natural here," the daughter of Eve added lightly.

Peter couldn't help but chuckle. "No, they're not. Any creature of the White Witch can't pass through Narnia's borders."

"So how did that Minotaur got close to us?" Susan asked.

The young King shook his head. "I don't know. Narnia's protective barrier never failed us before."

 _Barrier_ _._ Something clicked inside Susan's head. She remembered the warning that Mr. Tumnus had given her earlier which she so foolishly ignored.

"Mr. Tumnus said something about the weakening of Narnia's barrier," she said, looking at the back of Peter's head.

"Did he?" Peter asked, then sighed. Mr. Tumnus seemed to know about a lotof things than him.

Peter and Susan were silent after that. Ahead of them, Edmund, Lucy, and Mr. Tumnus were still talking. They could hear the youngest Pevensie's laughter ringing in the air after Edmund made a joke about something Mr. Tumnus had said. They could hear the crackling of the dry leaves on the ground beneath them as Flisk walked over them.

"Peter," Susan broke the silence. "Who is the White Witch?"

Peter flinched.

Normally, Peter would avoid any conservation about the White Witch. Of course, he couldn't avoid it most of the time, especially in the royal court, but he'd try to as much as he could. Because... it's _her_. Because of her, his and Caspian's life took a hundred-eighty degree turn. Because of her, the both of them knew nothing for years but pain, loss, and longing of the family they had lost.

Just a mere mention of her name sends a shiver down Peter's spine. Just a mere thought of her brings back terrible memories he had try to bury over the past few years.

But, he knew he should tell Susan about who she was. Who she _is_. Because Peter also knew that it was her who sent that Minotaur. Of how she did it given that she was vanquished and was nothing more than just a whisper in the wind, Peter had no idea. But he had a nagging feeling that somehow... she was back. Or a part of her was back. Because Peter refused to believe that the Minotaur was there of its own volition. When he had looked into its eyes earlier, he knew it was a dumb creature unlike the Minotaurs under his and Caspian's command. The Minotaur was sent there in Lantern Waste. And it was her.

And Susan should know about her.

Susan could feel Peter going rigid in front of her. Realizing too late that this was an uncomfortable topic for him and that clearly he didn't want to talk about it, she mentally cursed herself for opening her mouth. She was about to apologize when Peter made a move in front of her and tilted his head once again to look at her.

"She's Narnia's greatest enemy," he said. He turned his eyes back to the road ahead and gripped Flisk's mane slightky tighter than before. "She ruled for over five hundred years. Five hundred years of pain and misery. And winter. Endless winter."

"That's..." Susan's mouth seemed to go dry. Peter's description was short but it was enough. "Horrible." she whispered.

Peter chuckled grimly. "You have no idea how horrible she was, Su."

At the mention of her nickname, Susan involuntarily shivered.

She hate that nickname. She hate everyone back in her school in England who call her by that nickname. If it weren't because of the rules against punching, she would have punched everyone at her school who called her by that nickname. Of course, her siblings calls her that but they were different. They were born to annoy her. Other people? Not a chance.

So she had no idea why the way how Peter said it sent tingles down her various nerve endings.

Susan shook her head and willed her brain to focus to the topic at hand and not to stray some place weird. "Why?" she asked.

Peter took another deep breath. "She can turn anyone to stone with a single strike of her wand. She had an army of dark creatures at her command. She had a pack of wolves that served as her police, to run errands for her and kill anyone she wanted. She--" he trailed off. _She murdered the Narnians who raised me and Caspian._

Susan stared once again at the back of the blonde-haired King's head.

For the first time in this ride of theirs to Cair Paravel, Susan couldn't find any smart-mouthed words for Peter. Nor _any_ words for that matter.

Peter cleared his throat. "My brother and I defeated her two years ago. We ended her reign and banished her out of Narnia."

"So she's dead," Susan said.

"Only her body is dead, My Lady," Peter responded. "But her consciousness is still very much present, although useless without a physical manifestation. Few of her forces still remain but Caspian and I are continuously hunting them. We placed a magical barrier around the country to repel any dark creature of hers from stepping into Narnia's soil."

"So that Minotaur..."

"It's possible that she may have sent it," Peter said. "For you and your siblings."

Susan's heartbeat raced. Her arms involuntarily tightened themselves around Peter's waist. If her brain wasn't in such a whirlwind, she might feel uncomfortable with that action but she was too terrified to care.

"But why?" Her voice didn't sound like hers. "Why would she-- We're not--" She felt like the trees around them were closing in on her. She took small breaths to calm her heartbeat. " _Why?_ "

Peter had an idea why but he could already sense Susan hyperventilating behind him. He knew that if she'd tell her right then and there, she'd never reach Cair Paravel with her eyes open. Besides, a lot of things were still a blur to him. He had no idea what the new prophecy contains.

Then, Cair Paravel's tallest tower came into view.

Ahead of them, Lucy squealed in delight, spurred her horse into a gallop. Behind her, Edmund grabbed his younger sister's waist, trying to keep Lucy and himself from falling off the saddle.

Only Aslan holds the answer to everything. And he was on the other side of Cair Paravel's oak front doors.

"We'll find out when we'll get to the castle," Peter said then leaned forward to whisper something on Flisk's ear. Then he straightened up and turned his head to the side to look at Susan behind him. He flashed her a crooked smile. "For now, hold on tight and don't let go. Because this will be a ride you'll never forget."


	8. Arrivals

Despite the fact that her irritation towards the blonde-haired King lessened during their conversation a few seconds ago, holding on to him even more tightly than before was the last thing Susan wanted. But she still wrapped her arms around Peter's waist firmly as Flisk galloped her way (more like flew, really) towards Cair Paravel that in a mere few seconds, they had overtaken Lucy and Edmund.

Clinging to Peter as if her life depended on it, Susan felt like she was about to throw-up.

Susan waa afraid of horses. Because of a certain nasty experience she had with those four-legged creatures, she swore to herself to never ride a horse again. If they were attached to a carriage, though, she has no problem with that. But on horseback? Forget it. (Of course, she has no problem coming up with this decision because horseback riding was no longer a mean of transportation in England.)

Earlier at the clearing, when she laid her eyes on Peter's unicorn and immediately fell in love with the creature, she forgot her terrifying history with horses, making her think to give Flisk a chance and agree to ride on him. Besides, she had thought, there was no other way to get to Cair Paravel. And there was also no way she'd traipse through the lands of Narnia to its capital on foot after her near-death experience. Might as well endure the fear of riding on horseback rather than die on the hands of a Minotaur.

But now, with the unicorn galloping (flying) so fast that she felt like she left her stomach about couple of leagues ago, her fear of horses came utterly rushing back. Her eyes were shut so tight that she was afraid she would never get them to open again.

She and Peter ducked when they encountered a tree branch jutting out in their path. She screamed when the unicorn leaped five feet to the air over a huge tree trunk lying on the ground. Peter laughed loudly at her reaction. Susan made a mental note to herself to punch him once they'd get to Cair.

Edmund, Lucy, and Mr. Tumnus were far behind them now but how far Susan didn't know. She didn't dare to look over her shoulder or even move at all.

Then they broke out of the forest. Behind them on the west, the sun was setting. And ahead of them, perched on a little hill overlooking the vast Eastern Sea, stood Cair Paravel, Narnia's shining capital and the home of her two thrones. Hanging on one of the castle's tallest turrets was a gold banner with a blood-red colored rearing lion etched on the middle.

For a few awed heartbeats, Susan forgot that she was still riding Flisk.

"Hold on tight," Peter said as he spurred Flisk to an even more faster gallop as they approached the steep side of the hill. Susan could see a small road, almost like a ledge, wounding around the hill all the way to the gates of the castle above. Flisk rode up the road until they passed the portcullis. Beyond it, the road continued on. About five minutes later, they passed a set of large, polished wooden doors and up into a large stone courtyard. A few feet away on their right, halfway between them and the flight of marble steps that led to two enormous double oak doors, was an apple tree. On their left, the stone courtyard continued on for a few feet until it ended into a sharp curve, jutting out over the sea below.

Flisk cantered towards the direction of the doors and came into a halt. Peter got off to the ground easily then half-lifted Susan off the unicorn. Muttering a soft "thanks" to the King, the daughter of Eve ran a hand through her hair to straighten her windblown and tangled raven locks.

"Well, that was some ride." Peter said, nuzzling Flisk's nose. He shot Susan a smile.

"Speak for yourself, Your Majesty," Susan grumbled in reply then turned around, looking towards the glittering seas and into the horizon.

"You're afraid of horses."

Susan turned back around to stare at him. The King's blue eyes glimmered mischievously as he stroked Flisk's nose casually. She was about to deny it but something tells her there was no lying to Peter about the matter. Her cheeks warmed. Was it really that obvious?

Her lack of a smart-mouthed response was a confirmation for Peter. He couldn't help but smirk. "I figured as much," he said. "You almost killed me with your death grip back there when we were climbing up the hill. And even before that, when we were still in Lantern Waste."

The eldest Pevensie glared at the blonde-haired King. "Well, you were the one who had a death wish. You could have slowed down."

"I don't do slow when I ride Flisk, My Lady."

"Did you, perhaps, forget that you were not riding alone this time, Your Majesty?"

"My apologies. Next time, I'll try to remember that."

"Oh no," Susan responded, turning her attention away from the King and towards the direction of the clip-clopping sound of hooves on the paved road below on the hill. "I'm never riding with you again."

Peter laughed. Susan felt like her cheeks were burning as she continued to gaze towards the top of the paved road that climbed down and disappeared down to the base of the hill, waiting for Edmund, Lucy, and Mr. Tumnus to appear. A few minutes later, her younger siblings arrived. Lucy had a huge grin on her face and Edmund was panting behind her. Both of their hair were windblown and messy. Their brown stallion cantered to a stop beside Flisk, during which Mr. Tumnus appeared at the top of the paved road. He was only panting a little. The faun had been keeping up with them for almost half a day on his bare feet (or hooves) and he wasn't even out of breath. How, Susan thought in amazement, the bloody hell did he do that?

"That..." Lucy said, grinning as she leapt off the stallion followed by her elder brother. "...was so much fun. I can't wait to do that again."

Peter smiled at the younger girl. Obviously, she was far more adventurous and less like a wet blanket than her elder sister. He looked to the said elder sister and found her trying to straighten Edmund's black hair, much to the boy's annoyance.

"Jeez, Mum," Edmund struggled out of Susan's reach. "I'm thirteen years old!"

"Then act like it," Susan countered, refraining her actions. "Tame that bird's nest on your head."

Edmund rolled his eyes.

"You're a really good rider," Lucy said to Peter, completely ignoring her elder siblings. "I've never seen anyone ride like that before."

"That's because no one rides on horseback on Earth anymore, Lu." Susan responded before Peter could. She was still a bit miffed that he flew his way to Cair Paravel, despite figuring out that she was terrified of horses. It would have been alright if he didn't know, but he did and yet he didn't do anything. That annoyed her. "Besides," she added, shooting Peter a look. "He could ride a horse even before he could walk, couldn't he?" she mimicked his words he had used on her earlier.

For the second time that day, Peter chose not to respond to Susan Pevensie's smart-mouthed comment. "Indeed," he nodded. "My twin and I were trained to ride at a very young age by our father."

"Do you think," Edmund said. "You could teach me how to ride like..." he motioned to Flisk beside Peter. "...like you?"

Before Susan could object and Peter could respond to Edmund's idea, the enormous oak front doors of Cair Paravel groaned open on their right.

Peter, the Pevensies, and Mr. Tumnus turned towards the doors.

And out of them, stepped out a gorgeous black-haired boy with a slightly carameled-colored skin tone dressed in a gray tunic over a white long sleeved shirt paired with the same brown trousers and brown boots that were similar to Peter's.

Susan's gaze tunneled.

He jogged down the flight steps to the courtyard and approached Peter. "Why in Aslan's name..." he said. "...didn't you tell me you have gone to Lantern Waste?"

"You hate to be woken up at dawn," Peter reminded him, his lips twisting into a smile.

The black-haired boy laughed. "Point taken. Still, you could have left your note in writing instead of telling Freesia."

"I take it she wasn't fond that you slept until midday and didn't accompany me?"

"You know her so well," the black-haired boy chuckled.

Peter turned towards Susan, Edmund, and Lucy. "Caspian, these are the Pevensies." He looked at him. "They come from another world." He gave his brother a queer look.

"So the rumors are true, after all." Caspian said, returning Peter's gaze before looking at Mr. Tumnus standing behind the three Pevensies. The faun nodded.

"Susan, Edmund, Lucy..." Peter said. "...this is my twin brother, King Caspian the Seafarer, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, Lord of Cair Paravel and Emperor of the Lone Islands."

Caspian's lips tugged on the sides. "My first name would have sufficed, Pete-- no, please," he held out a hand as Edmund and Lucy started to bend their knees. "Bowing is really not necessary."

Caspian's gaze fell on Susan.

Chocolate brown clashed with hazel blue.

Susan felt like the King just stole all the air out of her lungs.

He is Peter's twin? She thought incredulously when oxygen flowed to her brain once again. From the shoulder-length black hair down to his slightly tanned skin tone, he looked nothing like the blonde-haired King. In what world is he Peter's twin?

Caspian took two steps towards her and took hold of her hand. He lifted it to her lips and kissed the back of it. "My Lady," Caspian said, fixing her with his gaze once again. "A pleasure to meet you."

It felt like something inside Susan was somersaulting. Then she felt ridiculous for feeling like a thirteen-year-old girl.

"I--" she started, her brain rebooting in her head. She was barely aware that five pair of eyes were trained on her. Her cheeks felt hot. Words, Susan Pevensie! she thought. Use words. And any second now would be great! "The pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty." She did a small curtsy.

"Please, call me Caspian. There's no need for formalities."

"Okay..." she answered. "...Caspian."

The King smiled, sending annoying shivers down Susan's spine.

They broke eye contact almost at the same time. Susan met her brother's gaze and found an amused expression plastered on his face. She narrowed her eyes at him. Caspian turned his attention back to Peter, who was equally amused as Edmund. His eyebrows were raised. Who knew that his dear twin brother was capable of being lovestruck? And who knew that the smart-mouthed Daughter of Eve was capable of being speechless?

"Aslan is waiting inside, Pete." Caspian said.

Peter caught Susan's gaze for a few heartbeats. He exhaled quietly, nodding to his brother.

Caspian turned to Mr. Tumnus. "Mr. Tumnus, would you be so kind to bring Flisk and the horse to the royal stables?"

"Of course, Caspian." the faun replied. He bowed his head slightly in farewell. Then he took hold of the brown horse's reins and Flisk's shining white mane and steered them to the side of the castle.

Peter motioned for the Pevensies to follow him inside Cair Paravel. Lucy immediately went forward, chattering beside Peter about ceiling and columns. Edmund looked at Susan first, as if asking permission. When the eldest Pevensie nodded, Edmund followed the blonde-haired King and his younger sister.

Caspian turned to Susan. "Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm to her.

At first, Susan hesitated. Then she felt ridiculous for hesitating. There he is, a boy that he liked, a King, who offers to escort her inside his castle and she, a simple English schoolgirl, has the nerve to hesitate?

Susan smiled and tucked her hand to the crook of Caspian's elbow. "Of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The paved road around the hill and the shape of the stone courtyard with the tree in the middle are inspired by the city of Minas Tirith from The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King movie.
> 
> P.S. If you belong to, like, the 1% of the world that is unfamiliar with The Lord of the Rings, you have to check the movies and the books out. Tolkien's Middle-Earth mesh perfectly with Lewis' Narnia (they were the best of friends and were each other's personal consultants throughout their writing of these worlds) that I'm sure you'll feel immediately right at home. :)


	9. Prophecy

Peter led them to Cair Paravel's throne room. And when the Pevensie siblings got inside, they couldn't help but freeze in the middle of the aisle and stare at each other as they took in the room's (if one could call it a room) details.

The domed ceiling was a glass roof. The floor was polished beige marble. Huge stone pillars lined the either side of the room. At the end of the aisle, on the opposite end of the room, there were a flight of stairs. And at the top, there nestled two maroon-colored high-backed chairs with gold arm rests.

The thrones of the Kings of Narnia.

All in all, the room made the Pevensies's jaws dropped.

But what really took the siblings' breath away-- especially Susan's-- was the creature standing between the two thrones, illuminated by the light of the setting sun.

A lion.

Somehow, the Pevensies weren't afraid of it. If anything, the familiarity of home when they first stumbled into Narniaincreased tenfold when they laid eyes on the golden lion.

Immediately, they knew that this Lion is the creator of the land. The King over all Kings. The aura around Him was enough to bring His enemies down to their knees.

As the five of them reached the bottom of the stairs, Edmund and Lucy reached Susan's side. Edmund, eyes fixed on the Lion, had his mouth slightly open in amazement while Lucy had a feeling of uneasiness. Susan gave her hand a reassuring squeeze which the youngest Pevensie felt grateful for and returned.

"Aslan," Peter said. "These are the Pevensies."

Overwhelmed by the powerful aura that the Lion was exerting, Susan knelt with her head bowed. Her siblings, who both had the same feeling as hers, did the same.

And when the Lion spoke, his deep, majestic voice vibrating powerfully around the throne room, the three Pevensies wasn't even surprised.

"Rise Edmund, Son of Adam. Rise Susan and Lucy, Daughters of Eve."

The siblings stood up and looked at the Lion. Aslan, in return, met their gazes one by one.

Then his gaze stopped on Susan's.

"Welcome to Narnia." Aslan's cat lips dissolved into a smile.

Susan released a breath she didn't realize she was holding. She slightly looked at her siblings on her right and the bright, smiling expressions on their faces mirrored her own. "Thank you, Aslan," she said.

Aslan turned his cat-eyes to Peter. "You have my thanks, Your Majesty, for bringing them safely to the castle."

Peter bowed gently.

"Now," the Lion continued. "I'm afraid we have something dire to discuss." Susan could see his smile fading from the Lion's face. "Follow me."

Caspian and Peter shared a look. Then they turned their gazes back at the three Pevensies, gesturing for them to go first. As the siblings passed them, Peter and Susan's gazes met for a moment. Peter thought of what he had unraveled on their way back to Cair Paravel and his heartbeat sped up slightly. Susan's stomach was twisting nervously but she couldn't quite wrap her mind around the reason why.

The five of them followed the Lion through a door just beside the raised dais of the thrones to a room which Susan easily assumed was the council room. A big round table was in the middle of the room with about ten cushioned high-backed chairs around it. Behind the table, another huge floor-to-ceiling glass window showed the sea outside, glistening in the setting sun.

"Take a seat," Aslan said.

Edmund and Lucy sat on either side of Susan while Peter and Caspian sat opposite them. Susan's heart was pounding slightly in her chest. Her mind flashed back to what Peter had said about the Witch sending that Minotaur to kill her. Suddenly, she remembered the word she had overheard back at Mr. Tumnus's house when the faun and Peter were talking. About a prophecy.

 _They couldn't possibly be related, could they?_ she thought horribly.

Her eyes caught Caspian's. He smiled at her, his brown eyes shining. For a moment, the horrible feeling in Susan's stomach lessened and she could feel her cheeks getting warm. And she mentally scolded herself for it, her mind repeating over and over that there were dire matters at hand and it wasn't hardly the appropriate time for her to be distracted by this black-haired King of Narnia.

The three siblings and the two Kings looked over at Aslan by the window. He was gazing at the horizon, unmoving, with his back to them. Susan's nervousness seemed to triple.

Finally, the Lion turned around and looked at the five of them.

"I brought you here," Aslan said. "Because the matter we are about to discuss is life-threatening. And I don't want others to overhear us. I don't want them worrying, not yet. Some nature spirits knew about it, including Tumnus, but not the whole truth. I want the five of you to know first."

"Is it about the prophecy?" Peter and Susan asked at the same time. They shot a look at each other then immediately turned away.

There was a few heartbeats of silence. Edmund and Lucy exchanged looks, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, before glancing at their sister. Caspian looked at Peter, then at Susan, then back again, as if looking for a connection.

"What do the two of you know about the prophecy?" Aslan asked quietly.

"I--" Peter swallowed. "Mr. Tumnus mentioned it, but he didn't tell me anything."

"I just overheard them," Susan wished her voice didn't come out as a squeak.

Another wave of silence followed. Susan's hands were starting to shake against her knees.

"A few months ago," Aslan started. "My father received a prophecy. It spoke about three humans- a son of Adam and two daughters of Eve- that will come to Narnia from another world. The prophecy said that these humans will be very important, for the fate of Narnia is in their hands. Particularly, at a certain daughter of Eve. Because she will be given a choice. And her decision will be either our salvation or the cause of our destruction."

Susan was breathing rapidly. Edmund had a blank expression on his face. Lucy was blinking rather quickly, looking from her sister to her brother then back again.

"And," Susan's voice trembled. "Do you think we're the ones?"

Aslan nodded. "You're humans. You came from another world. You came into Narnia just when evil is stirring. The prophecy couldn't have meant anyone other than you three."

"And--" Edmund spoke, his voice almost sounding like a croak. "The daughter of Eve?"

Aslan fixed her gaze on Susan.

For a moment, Susan didn't understand why the Lion was looking at her so earnestly. It felt like he was staring straight into her soul. Then it hit her.

 _Oh_.

"Me?" this time, Susan really squeaked. "Do you think-- _me_?"

"My dear child," Aslan said softly, his deep, knowledgeable eyes never tearing off Susan's blue ones. "I don't _think_ you're the daughter of Eve. I _know_ you're the daughter of Eve."

Susan felt like all the air was sucked out of her lungs. She couldn't breathe.

"That's why the Minotaur was sent to kill you," Peter said quietly.

Aslan nodded. If Susan wasn't feeling like she was about to vomit, she would have wondered why Aslan could have known about the Minotaur. But at the moment, she was slightly hyperventilating that her mind was going wild.

"But--" Susan looked helplessly around, at the people staring at her. At Caspian, who looked like he wanted to put his arms around her and comfort her. At Peter, who was staring at her with eyes full of sympathy. And, finally, at her siblings. Lucy was rubbing Susan's arms, trying to comfort her, but she herself wanted to cry. Edmund's face was expressionless but his chest was filled with terror and worry.

"What makes you so _sure_ that we're the ones? That I'm the one?" Susan continued, her voice shaking. "Just because we're humans doesn't mean we're the ones in the prophecy. They're humans too." she pointed at the two Kings.

"Susan," Caspian said gently. He looked like he wanted to take her hand more than anything but he was far from her. "Peter and I, we are born here. We are not from another world."

"But--" Susan continued, her breath heaving. "What about me? I'm not-- The prophecy didn't--" she trailed off, words crowding in her throat that she could barely speak.

"It's _you_ , Susan," Aslan said, his voice was slow, gentle, and true. "And, somehow, deep down inside you, you knew this to be true. Why else would the Witch send that Minotaur after you hours after you set foot in the land? Somehow, she knew it was going to be you." the Lion padded softly towards her direction, his cat paws making no noise against the marbled floor. "I do, too."

Susan was shaking and shivering, her mind trying very hard to wrap around all of it but couldn't. How could she be the one in the prophecy? She was just a bloody know-it-all sixteen-year-old girl from another world who almost couldn't even protect her siblings from Mrs. Macready, the caretaker back at the Professor's house. And now, she was expected to be the savior of Narnia? (She couldn't afford to think that she has a choice to destroy Narnia; she didn't know if her stomach could handle that.)

And yet, she also couldn't afford to think that it would be Lucy. She had no doubt that Lucy would choose the right thing and save Narnia but Susan had read enough books to know that the people on the prophecy usually suffers pain and near death experience.

No. Susan would rather die than let Lucy be the one on the prophecy.

Her train of thoughts were interrupted when she found herself face to face with Aslan. Up close, the Lion's cat eyes looked so deep and ancient that Susan felt she was being transported to the day he created Narnia. His golden mane shone in the sunlight that Susan was almost tempted to bury her face in them.

Aslan lightly breathed on Edmund and Lucy's faces. Immediately, the colors on their faces returned. When Susan met Lucy's gaze, her brown eyes glistened and she smiled at her, giving her elder sister a small nod of encouragement.

Then the Lion turned to Susan and blew a breath on her face.

Suddenly, she felt brave. Suddenly, she wasn't afraid of the prophecy anymore. Because, she realized, she was meant for it. She was _born_ for it. Her destiny wasn't in some Professor's house in Finchley, England-- it was _here_. In Narnia. That was why she feel so at ease, so at _home_ , ever since she stumbled out that wardrobe. Because she had finally found the reason of her existence.

Susan brought her palm up and wiped off the tears in her eyes that she didn't realize she was holding.

 _This prophecy is my destiny,_ she told herself, her heartbeat slowly returning to its normal level. _And I accept it._

When she looked up at Aslan and stared back into his eyes, the Lion was smiling at her. It was almost as if he had read her mind.


	10. Musings

"She's really beautiful."

Peter shot a look at Caspian as they walked down a hallway to go to their chambers. After all the day's happenings: getting almost killed by a Minotaur, uncovering another doomsday prophecy, and meeting an insufferable girl, all Peter wanted was to get some sleep.

"What?" he asked Caspian.

"Susan Pevensie," Caspian replied, a faraway look in his eyes. "She's beautiful."

Peter couldn't keep rolling his eyes. _Yep_ , he thought. _He's hopelessly lovestruck with that daughter of Eve._ And to think Peter had thought it was only his imagination when Caspian got that lovesick look in his face when he first introduced her to Susan. Peter didn't know if he should laugh or puke.

"And brave," the black-haired King continued.

 _Brave?_ Peter couldn't help but think with a snort. _Yeah, right._ If only his brother heard how Susan screamed when that Minotaur advanced on her, he wouldn't think her so brave anymore.

 _You couldn't blame her,_ Peter's conscience seemed to counter that thought. _She's not from this world_.

"Yeah, well," Peter said instead. "The prophecy said that Narnia's future is in her hands. She _needs_ to be brave."

They reached the end of the hallway which faced a big curtained window, illuminating the hallway with moonlight. The hallway split to two more hallways with two doors on each ends. Their bedchambers, exactly opposite to each other.

Suddenly, Caspian's eyes brightened as if he had just realized something life-changing. He turned to Peter. "Our birthday!"

"What about it?" he replied. Their eighteenth birthday was on Saturday the next week. And after a long day of persuasion from the palace staff, Peter and Caspian finally consented to have a ball and let the palace staff do all the arrangements. Said that it was the least they could do to repay the brothers for being the best Kings the country could ever hope for. Neither Peter nor Caspian knew what the palace staff were preparing except that, for the past few days, birds and ravens were busy flying back and forth from Cair Paravel, obviously sending out invitations.

"Don't tell me you figured out what they're planning?" Peter said. "You won't have any food for the rest of your life if Freesia finds out."

"I didn't," Caspian promised. "It's just... we'll be eighteen next week."

"Yeah, so?"

"We'll be of marriageable age!"

"Okay," Peter dragged the word slowly, still not getting what his twin brother was trying to imply. "So?"

His eyebrows crunched together when Caspian got that faraway look in his eyes again.

Then it hit him.

 _Uh-oh_.

"Caspian," Peter's voice showed a hint of warning. "Don't rush it, okay? You've just known her for, like, two hours! Just--"

"I'm not rushing anything!" Caspian held up his hands.

"Good," Peter exhaled, relieved. "For a moment there, I thought--"

"--I'm planning to propose to her on our birthday?" Caspian couldn't help but laugh. "I may be head over heels for her, Pete, but I still want to court her properly first."

 _Great_ , Peter mentally grimaced. _Nothing like seeing my beloved brother together with that annoying raven-haired lady._

"I'll get to know her," Caspian promised. "Starting tomorrow."

He gave the blonde-haired King a smile. "We should get some rest. Especially, you. You look _terrible_ , brother."

Caspian patted Peter's shoulder then walked away towards his bedchambers. Peter couldn't help but shake his head as he headed to his own.

He went to his bedchambers and shut the door close behind him. He took off his swordbelt and hung it by the headboard of his bed. Then he took off his tunic and shirt, leaving him bare-chested, then his boots. He left the huge windows leading to his balcony open but shut the curtains close. He went to his bed and laid down with his arm behind his head.

Peter stared at the ceiling, thinking about all the things that happened to him that day. Most importantly, he went over the prophecy again and again on his head. The prophecy that said Susan would make a choice that would either bring the downfall of Narnia or save it.

Somehow, Peter had the feeling that "downfall" meant the White Witch. Who else could it be? Now that the Tree of Protection was dying (no doubt by her doing) and her minions were more active than before (he has the Minotaur as proof of that theory) he knew it would only be a matter of time before she'd strike his kingdom again.

Then Peter's thoughts drifted back to Susan and that not-so-subtle look on her and his twin brother's face when they met.

 _Well,_ Peter thought, _if they really end up marrying each other, I won't care the slightest._

With these thoughts in his head and the cool, gentle wind caressing his cheeks, Peter fell into a dreamless sleep.

***

A hallway away, Susan was thinking the same thing as she stared at her bedchambers' ceiling.

Her bedchambers was ao enormous that she couldn't help but feel very lonely. She wasn't use sleeping in a huge room on her own. Back at England, even though her room was small and nothing compared to this one, she got to share it with Lucy.

But now, unfortunately, her little sister was with Edmund in a room few doors from hers.

She couldn't get the prophecy out of her head either. How it foretold that she would decide the fate of Narnia. But it wasn't that that really troubled her. It was what Aslan had told her just a few moments ago.

She had asked Aslan what would be Lucy's and Edmund's role in the prophecy. And the Lion answered that they would be the reason why she would be given the choice.

Now, lying on her bed, those words kept replaying on her mind. How could they possibly be the reason why she would be the given the choice? Would it because of something they would do? Or worse, would something happen to them? Would they be kidnapped or something of that sort? Could that be the reason why she would be forced to choose?

If that would be so, if something would happen to Edmund and Lucy, she didn't know whether she would have any strength to continue. Even though they are annoying sometimes, they are the ones that she loved the most. They are all that she got.

 _No, Susan,_ she told herself, _don't think about it._

She shook her head and willed those thoughts away from her mind. She thought about the feeling that came to her when she first stepped into Narnia, the coolness of the Narnian air on her cheeks, and the warmth of Mr. Tumnus's cave. Anything she could think of to take her mind off the prophecy.

Which brought her to the moment when she met Peter. How he saved her from that Minotaur. Though Susan didn't feel guilty anymore because because she had already thanked and apologized to him, it still didn't change the way how she looked at him. He would always be an annoying psychopath to her. Nothing could change that.

And then there was Caspian, Peter's _twin_ brother. That boy literally gave her the shivers. She couldn't shake those warm, chocolatey, brown eyes from her thoughts. The feel of his lips on the back of her hand...

Susan's eyelids were starting to get heavy. Before she knew it, she fell asleep.


	11. Breakfasts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three updates in three days! I guess that at-least twice-a-week update is out of the window now.

When Susan woke up the next morning and the sight of the unfamiliar ceiling of her bedchambers greeted her, at first she didn't know where she was. Then she remembered the yesterday's events. And, even though she also remembered the prophecy that made sleeping the night before a bit troublesome, she couldn't help but smile.

It was her first morning in Narnia.

She got up from her comfortable and enormous bed, bringing along with her the duvet cover because it just felt and smelled _so_ good, and walked over to her floor-to-ceiling window, opened them, and went out to the balcony. She breathed in the early morning air. It smelled so different than the morning air she had known for sixteen years.

The land of Narnia spread out before her and she couldn't help but think how hard it must be for Peter and Caspian to rule a land so huge. The vastness of it... it took her breath away. She wondered how many people live in Narnia.

It made her even more determined to save the land. The prophecy back in her head, Susan knew she would never hesitate when the time will come for her to choose.

She left the balcony and went inside. It was then that she noticed the green dress that was laid out for her on the cushioned high-backed chair beside her bed. One of the servants must have put it there while she was sleeping.

She went to the washroom and took a warm bath. Then she put on the dress and combed her hair. When she faced the mirror, she stared at herself.

Looking at herself with that Narnian getup, she looked different. She couldn't distinguish herself from the Susan of England that came into that land a day before. She even _felt_ different. Maybe it was the effect of the morning Narnian air? She had no idea.

A knock on her door startled her.

"Come in," she called.

And in came her brother. Susan couldn't help but raise her eyebrows at the sight of him dressed in a tunic over a shirt with brown trousers matched with brown boots. His hair was unkempt but what did she expect from her always messy haired younger brother, Edmund?

"I know," Edmund rolled his eyes. "I look ridiculous."

"You look like one of those characters in Shakespeare's plays," Susan said, chuckling.

"Ugh," Edmund's face scrunched up. Susan chuckled again in amusement, knowing that her brother wasn't a big Shakespeare fan, which she didn't really quite get. He loves Greek mythology but disliked Shakespeare. Did it mean he liked tragedy more than romance? She didn't have the slightest clue.

"You look good, actually," Susan nodded in appreciation.

"Thanks," Edmund gestured over to her. "You look good, too."

"I look different."

"We all do, sister. Now, come on down to the dining hall. Breakfast is ready."

"Breakfast," Susan played the words in her mouth as if it was something foreign. "Where's Lucy?"

"Already there," Edmund replied. "In fact, everyone is already there. Except you."

"Alright." She looked at herself in the mirror for a few seconds then turned back to her brother. "Lead the way."

***

When Susan and Edmund got to the dining hall, Peter, who was sitting at the head of the table, said, "Ah, there are you, Su."

There it was again. A shiver down Susan's spine.

Her eyes narrowed at the blonde-haired King, ready to tell him off from calling her that nickname ever again when Caspian asked, "Did you sleep well last night?"

When Susan brought her gaze to the black-haired King, her heart skipped a beat.

He was smiling at her. And he looked so bloody _good_.

"Yes," she replied, mentally praising herself that her voice didn't sound like a young, teenage girl's voice when talking to a guy she had a huge crush on. "Very well, actually."

"Great," Caspian smiled even more. "Please, come sit with me." The King got up and pulled up the chair beside him.

Susan's cheeks warmed. She obliged his request and went over to him, sitting down slowly. When Caspian sat back down beside her, she looked around the dining hall.

"Where's Aslan?" she asked.

"Not here," Peter replied shortly, taking a bite out of his scrambled eggs.

"Yes, I noticed that," Susan narrowed her eyes again at him, annoyed. _Seriously_ , she thought, _at this early hour in the morning, he's already trying to get into my nerves?_ "Where's he gone to?"

"No one really knows," Caspian answered before his brother could. He noticed Susan's glare at Peter and, figuring out that there must have been a story behind that, possibly involving what happened the day before, decided to cut in before their morning breakfast could escalate into something intense. "He comes and goes whenever he wanted to."

Susan nodded. "Where does he live?"

"No one also knows," Caspian replied. "He's got a country of his own, though, so it must be where he resides. But--" He offered her a plate of bread. "--no one's really sure."

"He's got a country of his own?" Edmund asked, his mouth full of bacon and scrambled eggs. Susan frowned at him.

"Yes," Caspian nodded. "And his father, too."

"He's got a father?" Lucy asked excitedly.

"Of course, he does, Lu," Susan said, her eyes still on Edmund.

"What's his father's name?" Edmund asked, completely ignoring his older sister.

"We call him the Emperor-beyond-the-Sea," Peter said. "Or the Emperor."

"What does he look like?" Lucy asked.

"No one also knows," the blonde-haired King replied. "He's not really involve in matters of the state. And the people don't usually pray for him for help. It's always Aslan."

"But he's real, right?" Susan asked.

"I think so," Peter answered. "Again, no one's really sure."

A few seconds of silence engulfed the table except for the scraping of forks against plates. Then their small talks continue. Peter and Caspian asks the Pevensie siblings about the world they came from. In turn, the Pevensies asks the Kings about the life in Narnia. The five of them chatted comfortably with each other that they all felt like they have already known each other for a long time.

"So, Peter," Caspian said while wiping his mouth with a table napkin. "Have you got any idea what the palace staff is planning for our birthday next Saturday?"

Peter shrugged at that while Edmund asked, "Your birthday is next Saturday?"

"Eighteenth birthday," Caspian nodded. "Yes."

" _Eighteenth?_ " Susan asked, her mouth falling slightly open. "But I thought you're only as old as me."

"How old are you then?" Peter asked her.

"Sixteen."

"Time travels faster in Narnia than our world, Su," Lucy said. "They may be eighteen here but back in our world, they could be sixteen. Or ten."

Susan nodded, thinking back to that day when Lucy said she had discovered a land inside a wardrobe and she and Edmund didn't believe her, partly because it was impossible and partly because Lucy had said she had been in the said land for a few hours but for her elder siblings she had never been gone at all.

"So, in theory," Edmund said slowly. "We could be a few days older than we were when we left our world. Or months?"

"Exactly," Lucy grinned. "Isn't it great?"

Susan couldn't say she'd agree with Lucy at that. So, even if she would spend her whole life here, grow old, and when she would go back to her world, it would be possible that she'd still be a sixteen year old?

She didn't know that traveling to another world would also be time-complicated.

"Are we all done?" Caspian asked, interrupting Susan's train of thoughts.

Peter wiped his mouth with his own table napkin and, seeing that Edmund and Lucy did the same, answered, "Yeah."

"Good," Caspian got up from his chair and offered a hand to Susan. "Do you mind? I'd like to take you somewhere."

"Um, sure," Susan replied, taking his hand. And she swear she could feel her hand tingling. She turned to her siblings. "What about you two?"

"Oh, no, don't mind us," Edmund said, smiling sarcastically. "Just be off with your date."

Susan's cheeks burned.

The youngest Pevensie slapped Edmund's shoulder. "Edmund!"

"Ow!" Edmund winced, bringing a hand to the offended shoulder and glared at his younger sister. "What?"

Lucy shook her head disbelievingly, rolling her eyes.

Peter merely laughed. Growing up, he wanted younger siblings so badly. He wanted to know what being a big brother felt like. And, seeing the two Pevensie siblings' behaviour, he knew that they are the perfect surrogate younger siblings he could ever have if he'd allow him. He'd treat them as his own siblings with no problem.

Except for Susan Pevensie, though. That girl will never _ever_ become his surrogate younger sister. Because sisters aren't suppose to be annoying, right? True, she had apologized to him during their ride to Cair for her ungrateful behaviour after saving her from certain death. And it was also true that she proved to be... _alright_ during the said ride and in the castle after when she found out about the prophecy. But Peter just couldn't explain why she easily annoys him.

 _Nope_ , he thought. _Sisters don't grate on their brother's nerves like that._

"Don't worry, " Peter said to her. "They'll be fine. I'll take Edmund to the armory, and maybe teach him some swordfighting lessons--"

"Really?" Edmund eyes brightened. If he wasn't still half stuck in the table, he would have shot up from his seat. "You will?"

"Of course," the blonde-haired King replied. "That is, if you want to."

"Are you kidding me?" Edmund grinned. "Of course, I want to!"

Peter grinned back. But when he looked backbat Susan again, she was frowning slightly.

"Fine," Susan said. "But if you so much as _scratch_ him--"

"Oh, cut it out, Su," Edmund exclaimed irritably. "Where's the fun in swordfighting if--"

"Don't even finish that statement, Edmund Pevensie, or I wo--"

"As for me," Lucy cut in loudly, standing up from her seat. "I'll be in the library. Mr. Tumnus said he's going to tell me _everything_ about Narnia." She smiled excitedly.

"Good," Caspian spoke. "Everyone's got their own thing. Susan, shall we go?"

It was then that Susan noticed that her hand was still clutching Caspian's. It just felt... _right_ , somehow, for her.

 _And I just sound so awfully cheesy_ , she thought.

"Okay," she answered.

She put a hand on the crook of Caspian's arm. He led her out to the dining hall, into the great hall, then eventually outside the castle.

Once the both of them left, Edmund turned to Peter, his eyebrows scrunched together in wonder.

"What are they on about?" he asked the blonde-haired King.

Peter shrugged. "My brother's getting to know your sister."


	12. Flowers

Caspian brought Susan out to Cair Paravel's garden and the place didn't fail to take her breath away.

The garden was enormous and beautiful. There were flowers everywhere. Daisies, buttercups, lilacs, wild roses, rhododendrons- really, _everything._ There were also flowers that she couldn't name which easily meant that they are scarce in the world she came from (much less England.) Dryads and nymphs were drifting around the garden, sprinkling the flowers as they pass them by with glittery substances from the bucket they were holding. Susan could also see some fauns holding some strange-looking flutes to their lips (reed pipes, she realized) and doing some tap dance in front of some plants. And as they do it, Susan could _see_ the plants growing.

"What--" she started to say but she was so tongue-tied that she couldn't continue.

"Nature magic," Caspian said. "Nature spirits use it to grow plants. You should see our orchard. It's amazing..."

Susan nodded, half-minded, her eyes still focused on the fauns. If only such creatures existed in England, she knew the garden back at the Professor's house wouldn't have been so dismal.

Then her blue eyes drifted to a group of white roses not far from her.

Again, Susan couldn't help but wonder how nature spirits didn't exist in her world. Those white roses were just so _beautiful_!

A faun- a young one by the looks him- saw the daughter of Eve staring at the roses. He picked one of the white roses and trotted to Caspian and Susan's direction. He bowed to Caspian slightly, and at Susan, then the faun offered her the white rose shyly.

Susan accepted the rose and smiled at the faun. "Thank you."

The faun bowed again, blushing furiously, then went back to tending a group of rhododendrons.

Susan inhaled the smell of the white rose and smiled in pleasure.

She looked at Caspian.

"It's so beautiful here," she said.

"I know," he smiled back. "It's my favorite go-to place. Well, aside from the courtyard."

"Where you practice fencing," Susan stated.

Caspian chuckled. "Yeah."

"Just double checking," she said.

Caspian led her to a path that spread out to the whole garden. As they followed it down, Susan could see dryads appearing and disappearing around the garden, murmuring some words in a strange language.

"You're so into nature, aren't you?" Susan asked.

"Yeah, I am," Caspian rove his eyes around the place. "After experiencing winter for a long time... it really changed my way with nature."

Susan nodded, impressed. She hadn't known a lot of people-- especially _boys_ \-- who cares about nature.

"How about you?" Caspian asked. "What do you like to do back in your world? "

Despite the fact that it was just a casual question in a casual conversation made by casual people, Susan couldn't stop her heart from beating a little faster. Why is a King of Narnia asking her about her _habits_? Is he interested in her? Because she was sure as hell that she's interested in him even though she knew it was silly being interested about a person who she had just met the day before. Or it was just what it was, a casual question? He was a King of Narnia, after all. Maybe one of his duties was to inquire about his people's habits. Her heart fell slightly with that thought.

"Staying the whole day in my room, mostly, reading a book," she replied, bending over to study a lilac. "Or heading out to the library to read a book."

Caspian chuckled again and Susan could swear that her pulse was racing against her will.

"So you're a nerd, then," he said teasingly.

"Please don't call me that," she said. She tried to shoot the King a menacing look, because she hated to be called a nerd, but failed. She knew it was because of those annoying chocolate brown eyes.

"I'm sorry," he laughed for a moment then turned his face a little more serious. "Truly."

"Nah, s'alright," she shook her head slightly then turned away, annoyed at herself for not being capable to get mad at him for calling her a nerd when, normally, she'd punch anyone who would call her a nerd.

The pair continued to walk down the garden's path. They met a couple of dryads who, after curtsying to the both of them and giggling, vanished in a poof of flowers and leaves.

"I hear your intelligent," the black-haired King continued.

Susan's head snapped to his direction. She did it so suddenly that she could feel the back part of her neck going warm. "Where did you hear that?"

Caspian blushed, turning away from her scrutinizing gaze. "Your sister talks. A lot."

"Yes, she really does." Susan chuckled. She smiled a little upon seeing her companion's ears going red. "Anyway, I'm not _that_ intelligent. I got top grades in most of my subjects, true, but I stink at Greek mythology."

Caspian's eyebrows scrunched together, which she found really cute. Really, was there anything about him that Susan didn't found cute? "Why is that?"

"I hate it," she answered, wriggling her nose in nausea. "The talk about those gods gives me headaches."

"Actually, one of those gods keeps visiting here."

"What?" Susan asked, shocked. "Who?"

"Bacchus," the way Caspian said the name made Susan wonder if the stories she heard about the wine god (and rivalries) were indeed true. "Or, Dionysus. He likes giving blessings to our grapevines in the orchard."

"Fantastic," Susan rolled her eyes again. "Edmund will be _ecstatic_ when he'll find out. He just loves mythology."

Caspian laughed at that and his laugh was so contagious that in no time Susan was laughing along, too.

For a few minutes, the King of Narnia and the eldest Pevensie just enjoyed the company of each other. Susan was glad that her companion was so easy to talk to. And she was even more glad that he wasn't the sort of person that likes to pry about things that other persons tend to hide purposefully. Everytime she'd close off a subject and opens another, he'd just go along with her. She was grateful to him for that. Caspian really was a good companion.

She just wished that the King felt the same way towards her because, despite the calm demeanor she was exhibiting, she was feeling shaky.

Then Caspian said, "What you did, it really amazed me."

"What amazed you?" she asked.

"You accepting the prophecy."

Susan stopped walking and Caspian followed suit.

"The prophecy predicted a war," Caspian continued. "A war that could wipe out the whole country. And you," his voice became soft. "The decision to save Narnia or destroy it rests upon _you_. And you accepted it with no problem."

Susan internally laughed at that. If he only knew how her brain had short-circuited when Aslan told them about the prophecy the day before, he wouldn't have said that.

"That's easy," she made her voice light. "Because I know that I won't _ever_ make a decision that will destroy Narnia."

Caspian didn't react to that. He merely stared at her, unwavering. Her heartbeat seemed to triple with the intensity of his gaze. She could feel her hands going sweaty.

"Susan," he spoke slowly. "Have I mentioned how _amazing_ you are?"

 _And have I mentioned that you really need to stop doing whatever it is you're doing because you are giving me a heart attack_? she thought, almost hyperventilating.

"And have I mentioned..." she said. "...how different you are from your twin brother?"

Caspian laughed.

"I just don't get it," Susan shook her head. "You're so... _differen_ _t_. He's cocky, you're..." _Perfect_. "... _nice_."

"My brother's not cocky," Caspian replied, an amused smile played on his lips. "In fact, you're the first person who calls him that. Other Narnians thinks he's perfect. Maybe," he stole a glance from Susan. "Maybe he's only like that when there are beautiful girls involved."

"Are you saying that there are no beautiful girls in Narnia? Some King you are," she said, grinning mischievously.

"No, no, of course, I didn't mean it like that," Caspian laughed. "It's just... I can't blame Peter if he acts different around you. You just have this... aura, you know?"

Susan tried very hard not melt then and there. Her cheeks were burning for a while now and she was pretty sure Caspian had already noticed it. And yet, he was still saying things like _that_. If she hadn't just met him the day before (and if he wasn't a bloody _King_ ) she would have punched him in his oh-so perfect teeth.

"Susan, can I ask you something?" he asked.

"You're already asking," she replied.

Caspian cracked a smile again then continued, "This coming Saturday... you know, our birthday," he hesitated for a few heartbeats. Susan waited for him to continue. "Will you go to the ball with me?"

Susan's eyes widened.

She knew she was being stupid. It was only a birthday ball and he was merely asking if she could be his partner. It was not as if he was asking her out on a _date_. But still, she couldn't help her heart from beating a little faster

She swallowed. "Caspian, I--"

"Relax, My Lady," the black-haired King chuckled, apparently sensing her discomfort. "It's not like I'm asking you to be my Queen." He paused. His smile seemed to disappear from his lips for a moment and he just stared at her all in seriousness. "Not yet, anyway," he murmured, loud enough to make Susan shiver.

Susan stared at the King, scrutinizing his expression to see if he was just messing with her. But his expression was serious. His eyes, those chocolate brown orbs, were plainly sincere.

_His Queen._

Caspian walked closer to Susan. He stopped a few inches from her. And she swear she could feel her knees shaking beneath her skirts.

"But someday, I will," he said softly.


	13. Jitters

A week had almost passed and the Pevensie siblings weren't regretting their decisions of staying in Narnia. They were one of the most unforgettable days they had ever had in their life. Not that they had a lot of unforgettable days back in England. Unless you count the days they were being bullied at school because they were orphans which was almost every day. You could only imagine how grateful the siblings are not having to face those bullies again and how more grateful Susan is knowing that Edmund doesn't punch the said bullies in the face anymore and getting called into the headmaster's office because of it.

In the mornings, Susan and her siblings got lectures about everything there was to know about Narnia. Most of the days, Mr. Tumnus would do the teaching and Susan couldn't help but admire the faun's teaching skills. He would definitely fit in easily with those professors back at Cambridge or Oxford Susan heard so much about.

Sometimes, Caspian would take over for Mr. Tumnus and Susan hated every moment of it because she couldn't concentrate on a single word he says. Instead, she'd find herself concentrating on other things-- like how his hair falls in front of his eyes everytime he'd glance at a book he was reading, how his lips break into a smile everytime he'd get a correct answer from them, how his brown eyes sparkle everytime he looks at her... Needless to say, by the end of Caspian's lectures, Susan would realize that she had not learned a single thing from him and she had to take the books he was reading during his lectures with her to her bedchambers that night to read them again.

Sometimes, Peter would take over. And during his lessons, Susan couldn't concentrate because he keeps talking in that annoying and cocky way of his towards her that she just wants to strode over to him and strangle him. One time, their lecture turned into a full-fledged debate involving a lot of yelling and high-velocity books because Susan contradicted Peter when he said that King Frank took ten thousand Narnians with him during his war against the giants of Harfang when it was obviously fifteen thousand (base on the book Susan had read the night before.) Lucy and Edmund just sat there helplessly with their mouths hanging open as they watch their sister thrust a book on the King of Narnia's face to prove her argument.

In the afternoons, Susan and Edmund have their archery and fencing lessons, though if they would have a say on it, they would both have preferred to ditch their lectures in the morning and just have their archery and swordfighting lessons all day. Susan already has skills on archery as much as Edmund on fencing. Back at their school during their P.E. classes, other kids would silently praise the Pevensie orphans because the raven-haired one just couldn't seem to miss a target even if it was thirty paces away and the black-haired boy wields a sword, even if it was blunt, like a pro.

Now, here in Narnia, they were both determined to improve their skills. Susan had requested Trumpkin, the finest archer in the Narnian army (who was a Dwarf; Dwarves, Susan discovered, were incredibly skilled in archery) to tutor her and the red-haired dwarf seemed to have no problem with that because the Daughter of Eve carries the bow and arrows with ease.

Edmund was not having any difficulties with his swordfighting lessons either. And having Peter-- who the centaurs and even Caspian says the most excellent swordfighter in Narnia (Susan rolled her eyes at that), as his teacher-- he immediately mastered the art of swordfighting in just five days. In fact, on the sixth day, when Caspian and Edmund had a sword match, the son of Adam managed to disarm the King.

Lucy wanted to learn swordfighting, too, but neither Susan nor Edmund would agree. Lucy was too young (and too small) to wield a sword. She tried archery, but when she had shot her first arrow ten meters away from the target, both Susan and Edmund agreed that archery was not for her. But Peter gave her a dagger to protect herself. A miniature version of his sword, Rhindon. When Susan found out, she was beside herself. She shot an arrow to a target inches from Peter's nose that he couldn't move for the next five minutes. But, eventually, she was convinced by Caspian that Lucy needed a weapon for self-protection because they wouldn't always be there to protect her.

Susan was interested in swordfighting, too. And she had Caspian to teach her the basic swings and hacks. She find it enjoyable but, of course, not nearly as enjoyable as archery. And yet, she was still determined to learn how to fight with a sword. She had just realized that, although archery has certain advantages because she could kill an enemy before he/she could reach her, having a sword as backup should the said enemy cleverly get close to her might save her life.

And as the days go by, too, and Saturday night was looming closer everyday, Susan and Caspian grew very close. Everyone in Cair noticed this because those moments when they were seen _not_ together were incredibly rare. Peter didn't know what to make of it. Caspian had not looked so cheerful or alive in a few years, even back when they first defeated the Witch, and he has Peter's full support to continue his budding relationship with the Daughter of Eve. But she's _annoying_ and he couldn't stand her. Everytime he'd try to like her, he'd just give up. How would he manage if she and his brother would really end up together?

And Edmund and Lucy? Edmund hadn't cared about the boys in Susan's life, even back at England. Not that she has that many suitors; Susan wasn't unattractive, true, and she was kind-hearted, but guys didn't really flock into the Professor's house (or their Uncle Harold's house before that). Maybe because Mrs. Macready and Aunt Alberta were bats in human form or maybe because Susan was the eldest of the three Pevensie _orphans_ that were popular among the bullies at school. And Edmund wasn't planning to start caring now. Sure, Caspian was kind and Edmund knew he was perfect for his sister but he wasn't into that gooey stuff.

Although, Edmund knew that if anyone, and he meant _anyone_ , would try to hurt his sister in any way, even if it was over a heartbreak (Edmund gagged at that), he sure knew how to throw a punch.

Lucy, being the twelve-year old girl she was and hasn't quite gotten over the fantasy-love stories Susan always reads to her back at England, gushes about how beautiful it was that her sister got the attention of the King of Narnia himself. She was already picturing long, flowing dresses and glittering tiaras on her elder sister's hair, and glass shoes. Susan would just laugh at Lucy at that because she knew that was highly unlikely.

Though it all changed the afternoon when Caspian, amidst the flowers of the castle's garden, told her he liked her and that he already loved her.

He caught her off guard and even if Susan liked him a lot, too, she couldn't find the words to say she loved him back.

That made her very nervous for Saturday night.

***

Finally, Saturday night had arrived.

Susan had three ladies in waiting to dress her up for the night. The ladies were really excited and honored to assist the "Future Queen of Narnia" for the ball. And they promised Susan that they would make her the most beautiful lady in the ball and that those duchesses that are coming over as guests wouldn't even stand a chance.

Future Queen of Narnia. That was something that didn't click in Susan's brain after Caspian had told her he liked her.

Now she was even more nervous. One of her ladies in waiting brought her a cup of tea to calm her nerves and she downed it with a single gulp, barely registering the stinging sensation in her tongue as she drank the hot content.

After a few hours, her ladies in waiting were done with her. They gushed at her beauty and said they couldn't wait to see those duchesses' faces once they'd see her (Susan figured there was history there). They left to inform Caspian that she was ready and instructed her to stay still. Susan tried to but her knees just wouldn't.

Finally, she turned around and faced her mirror. And her mouth fell open.

Who was that beautiful girl in the mirror? The one who's wearing a red dress with gold long-sleeves and whose hair down in soft, dark ringlets? The one who has a simple yet perfect make-up that accentuates her blue eyes?

Was she _that_ girl?

A knock brought her back to reality.

Then her nervousness that vacated her for a few seconds, returned in a flash.

She turned away from the perfect girl in the mirror and headed towards the doors of her bedchambers.

And there was Caspian, looking very gorgeous in a flesh-colored tunic over a brown shirt with a sword dangling at his side. His black-hair was bit mussed in a neat way around his handsome face.

Susan might have forgotten to breath for a moment there.

"Caspian," Susan said. She mentally patted her back for not squeaking and hyperventilating.

Caspian stared at her with a dumb-struck expression on his face that Susan knew she was probably blushing from head to toe.

Then Caspian bent over slightly in a bow, flashing him that breathtaking smile of his. "You look absolutely amazing, my lady."

"Well, thank you, my King." Susan curtsied then laughed.

Caspian offered his left arm. "Shall we?"

Susan took a deep breath. She and her siblings was going to be introduced to a few thousand guests as the prophesized humans who will end the Witch once and for all. Was she ready?

She managed a smile, tucking her right hand on the crook of the King's elbow. "We shall."

When they reached the landing of the hallway to the stairs leading down to the entrance hall of the Great Hall below, Susan's heartbeat sped up.

Caspian sensed her nervousness. "Don't worry," he said softly. "All the guests are already in the Hall. No one's gonna be gawking at you when you come down the stairs. Only Peter and your siblings."

Susan chuckled beside him, trying to control her breathing. "I really looked like I'm about to faint, do I?"

"You look beautiful,"

Susan smiled, though his words didn't really calm down her heartbeats.

"Don't make me fall, please, Caspian," she muttered to her companion whom she had just realized she had a very hard grip on.

"Never," the King replied easily.


	14. Unexpected

_Aslan's mane,_ Peter thought. _She_ _'s really beautiful._

Not that he hadn't thought Susan beautiful before. That first day he met her in Lantern Waste, back to those few minutes when he was being properly introduced to her and her siblings by Mr. Tumnus, he had to admit he may have stared at the eldest Pevensie a tad longer than he would have liked.

Or these past few days, during those times he'd tutor the siblings about Narnia's history, he would sometimes get anxious by her stares. It was mostly because she was almost always correcting him, true, and he had to be really careful about his lectures (though he had no problem in countering her interruptions with a similar amount of attitude) but he would be lying if her piercing, alluring, hazel-blue gaze didn't contribute to his anxiousness.

But it was that moment, when Caspian and Susan descended the stairs, Caspian looking regal and kingly as ever in that flesh-colored tunic of his and Susan in a blue dress that matched her piercing eyes and her hair down in ringlets, that it fully sank into Peter's brain that Susan is really beautiful.

Unknowingly, the blonde-haired King's grip on his swordhilt tighten as he continued to stare at the daughter of Eve. Then he mentally slapped himself and turned away his gaze.

What was the matter with him? He should be mad at her for almost piercing his nose in a hard way a few days ago. But now, he was staring at her as if she was the goddess Venus in mortal form.

"Hello, Peter," Susan's voice brought him back to reality. When he looked up, she and Caspian were now in front of him.

"Hello, Susan," he greeted back, summoning the Peter she knew and pushing away the ridiculously smitten Peter. "You dressed up quite well."

"You don't look horrible yourself," she replied, matching his smirk.

"Remind me to thank your ladies in waiting for the amazing job they did on you."

"Thank you. Remind me also to thank _your_ ladies in waiting for managing to make you look human."

Peter couldn't help but smile wider. "Actually, I did this myself," he countered.

"Oh, really?" her blue eyes widened. She dragged her eyes from his face down to his toes then back again. Peter had to admit he fidgeted for a while there. "Wow."

"Shocked?"

"Yes, very. Because I know for a fact that you can't properly dress yourself."

"Well, you will be more shocked--"

"Alright, cut it out," Caspian interrupted, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "Geez, it's our birthday, Pete. Can't the two of you resist your urges to strangle each other just for one night?"

Peter and Susan both turned to look at him as if he was crazy. Caspian was a bit worried that Susan might forget Peter and strangle him instead.

Peter's gaze strayed from his brother and fell on the eldest Pevensie once again.

 _Okay_ , he thought. _I really need to stop doing that._

"Fine," Susan said. She turned to Peter, her eyes slowly losing their sarcastic glare. "Have you seen Edmund and Lucy?"

"They're already inside." He gestured to the closed doors of the Great Hall in front of them. "They'll be introducing us any minute now."

Just as those words left Peter's mouth, a loud voice thundered from inside the Hall. Suddenly, the doors swung open, revealing the Great Hall with all the night's guests: lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses from neighboring lands, and Narnians. They formed a path from the doors to the raised dais of the thrones of the Kings of Narnia.

Susan took a sharp intake of breath. Seeing all these many faces, these many _unfamiliar_ faces, made her feel like her knees were turning to jelly.

Beside her, Caspian felt her discomfort. He squeezed her hand softly. "You'll be fine," he murmured. "I'm here."

Susan turned her nervous eyes at him. When they met his warm, brown ones, it was as if they leeched all the panic out of her system.

Then and there, she knew she has no reason to be nervous about.

"I know," she said.

Peter walked into the Hall first, smiling at the crowd. Though, inside him, he was far from smiling because he didn't have the slightest idea why he suddenly have a wrenching feeling in his gut after he heard Susan say those words.

*

Susan couldn't think of another word to describe dinner except _majestic_. She made a mental note to personally visit Freesia and her companions and asked them how they managed to pull such an amazing dinner.

Then again, Susan figured they must had been preparing dinners like this for various balls for a long time now and that this jaw-dropping display of food in front of her only took them probably half-day but still...

Caspian led her to the long dining table at the foot of the raised dais. The High Table, as Caspian called it. And as he pulled a seat for her, Susan stared at all the overflowing food on the table.

There were roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, puddings, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and various others that Susan could not recognize and which she easily assumed as Narnian delicacies. All manner of wines and fruit drinks were also present on the table.

Susan's mouth fell half-open as she examined the food, and it was only when she was studying the wines that she realized it and that she probably looked like an idiot.

She sat down on the seat Caspian had pulled out for her after giving him a grateful smile and a soft "thank you". Then she looked around.

She scanned the table for Edmund and Lucy but they were not there. They were supposed to joining her at the High Table. She looked around the Great Hall (it looked _really_ different from the Great Hall she knew for the past couple of weeks) and spotted them at another long table placed parallel with the columns on the right side of the Hall. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, talking and laughing merrily with their dwarf and faun companions. Edmund met her eyes and Susan jerked her head to the side lightly, gesturing him to come over. Edmund nodded back and turned to the dwarves and fauns. A few seconds later, him and Lucy were heading to the High Table.

Susan wished more than anything to just leave the table, go out to the archery arena which had easily become her favorite place in Narnia, and maybe shoot an arrow or two, or twenty. She wasn't used to this kind of thing, attending balls, going to dinners, much less being stared at by hundreds of people. She had never attended a ball in her life back at England. She had never gone to fancy dinners with anyone, even back when her parents were alive (if they had, she couldn't remember because they died when she was young and Lucy was just a toddler at that time). And she had never been stared at by anyone for more than ten seconds because she was _boring_.

And yet, here she was. Attending a royal ball with the fanciest, most majestic dinner she could ever imagine and being ogled by hundreds of people, ninety percent of whom she didn't know.

Her gaze fell on Peter at the head of the table. He was talking and laughing with a red-haired lady Susan hadn't had the pleasure to meet.

Peter looked really kingly and attractive with his getup. His dark blue tunic was worn over a light blue shirt with black trousers. His usual messy blonde hair, now neatly combed, was swept to one side.

Susan had to admit that earlier, when she and Caspian descended those stairs and discovered Peter waiting for them at the bottom, her gaze had lingered at the blonde-haired King far longer than she had intended. Which _really_ made her annoyed at herself. Since when had she developed the habit of ogling at the blonde-haired King she considered her nemesis?

 _It must be because of that tea my handmaids gave me earlier for my nerves_ , she told herself, although she had no idea how the tea made her stare at Peter longer than she would have liked.

The red haired lady was clearly flirting with Peter, Susan noticed. Fluttering eyes, double tucking her hair behind her ear, extensive laughs, playful slaps at Peter's arms... it was kind of obvious, really. Susan resisted the urge to laugh.

Caspian introduced Susan, Edmund, and Lucy to the guests. Immediately, they were bombarded with questions about the prophecy. When asked about the nature of her relationship with Caspian (because, apparently, they couldn't keep their eyes off each other), Susan almost choked on her wine.

Fortunately, Caspian was really good at answering uncomfortable questions and simply gave her hand a comforting squeeze under the table.

When her gaze rove around the table in discomfort, it fell on Peter.

And he was staring intently back at her.

If she hadn't felt another gentle squeeze on her hand, she wouldn't have managed to look away.


	15. Discomforts

"Hey," Caspian approached Susan who was sitting at the table that ran parallel against the right side of the hall. "Are you alright?"

Susan looked up at him, blinking. She was enjoying watching Edmund and Lucy dancing at the middle of the hall. They were dancing this silly dance that they'd been doing since forever back at England. They weren't the only ones on the dance floor, though. Some of the guests were there too. But they didn't seem to mind the two Pevensie siblings doing a ridiculous tap dance around them.

"Hi," Susan said, smiling up at him. "I'm fine."

"You got that faraway look in your eyes." Caspian said, occupying the chair next to her. "What are you thinking?"

"Oh," Susan returned her gaze back to her siblings, who both had stopped dancing and were now laughing, clutching tightly at their sides. "I was just... wondering how my siblings managed to enjoy themselves."

"Why?" asked Caspian. "You're not enjoying the ball?"

 _Not even a little bit._ But Susan didn't want to say that to Caspian. It was _his_ birthday party, after all. She couldn't very well confess to his face that she would give anything to just leave and shoot some arrows at the archery arena.

"It's not that I'm not enjoying, it's just..." Susan looked shyly at Caspian. "I'm not used to this kind of thing."

Caspian chuckled, his chocolate brown eyes glimmering. "Well, you better get used to it, My Lady, because you live here now. Cair hosts royal balls almost everytime and I would hate it if I go alone."

Susan smirked at that. "What if I don't want to get used to it?"

"Well," Caspian smiled mischievously, lowering his voice. "You wouldn't want me seeking another partner, would you?"

Susan blushed, turning his gaze away from Caspian's burning ones.

Before she could answer however, Susan saw Edmund and Lucy approaching their table. Both were red in the face due to their intense laughing, Susan guessed. They were still laughing when they got to the table.

Both Edmund and Lucy were dressed in Narnian garbs. Lucy was in a pink dress, and her hair-- which had already grown an inch or two-- was worn down around her shoulders. Earlier that night, her blonde-hair had been sleek and shiny but right now, it looked like a bird's nest. Edmund wore a black tunic over a gray shirt. He had grown muscles after his five days of swordfighting lessons, making his shoulders broad and his physical build firm. He looked like a couple of years older than his actual thirteen-year-old self.

So many changes had happened these past few days that Susan couldn't believe that they were just here for only five days. Even she felt... _different._ She no longer felt like sixteen years old. She felt more _adult_ than that.

 _Well,_ she figured, _if time here really is different from our world then, my seventeenth birthday could have already passed. Or my eighteenth._

Susan shook her head, trying to clear her mind. She'd drive herself crazy thinking about these things. She had just discovered and absorbed the fact that, yes, those Olympians gods _really_ do exist (she had met Dionysus-- no, _Bacchus_ \-- the day before.) She wasn't sure if she was ready to tackle _time_ topics yet. Instead, she focused on Edmund and Lucy who had now reached their table and chattering to each other loudly.

"Did you see the look on that lord's face?" Lucy exclaimed. "Priceless!"

Edmund chuckled. "He looked really surprised, all right."

"Enjoying ourselves, are we?" Susan smiled at her siblings.

"Oh, yes, Su," Edmund beamed. "The ball here is so much different than ours back at England."

"Like you've attended one," Lucy quipped beside him.

"True," Edmund said, giving Lucy a glass half-filled with dark liquid. He knocked his own glass against his younger sister's and they tipped their heads back, drinking the content.

"Well, what do you exp-- That's not wine you're drinking, is it?" Susan's voice raised as she gaped at them emptying their glasses. "Remember, you're much too young for--"

"Jeez, Mum," said Edmund, smacking his lips with his hand. "It's just grape juice. Don't be such a wet blanket."

Susan opened her mouth to react to that but was interrupted by Caspian laughing beside her.

She glared at him. He might have asked her to this ball, he might be the one who was having a birthday, and he might be a King of Narnia, but Susan doesn't tolerate anyone who would laugh at her. "What?" she said, her voice rather annoyed.

Caspian, looking at the serious expression on Susan's face, quickly cleared his throat and said, "Nothing. I was--"

Lucy yawned very loudly, interrupting Caspian which he felt really grateful for because Susan immediately turned her attention from him to her sister. He liked Susan so much but she can be really scary when she looked like _that_. He had witness enough interactions between her and his twin brother to know what would be next after that death glare.

"Time to go to bed, Lu," Susan said, standing up and holding out a hand to Lucy.

"I'm not yet--" Lucy started to say, but yawned again.

"Tired?" Susan's lips turned up a little into a smile. "You sure looked like it."

"I'll take her, Su." Edmund said, placing a hand on Lucy's wrist. "Besides, I need to sleep early, too. Early swordfighting lessons tomorrow morning." He grinned.

"Okay," Susan said.

Edmund took another swig of the grape juice from another half-filled glass in front of him (it didn't look like grape juice at all to Susan) then started to leave, supporting Lucy who's eyes were now half closed. But he turned back to look at his elder sister and said, "Just so you know, that last one was a hundred percent wine. See ya, sis."

Caspian chuckled while Susan muttered, "Git." She sat back on her chair.

"I really like your siblings, you know." Caspian said, reaching for a glass of white wine and taking a sip. "They're so adorable."

"Lucy, maybe." said Susan. "But Edmund?" she snorted. "He's annoying."

"He's all right." replied Caspian. "He reminds me of Peter when we were young."

"Really?" Susan stared at him. "I'll never look at Ed the same way again."

Caspian laughed. "Why do you hate my brother so much?" he asked.

"I don't, like, _hate_ him, Caspian," she said. "I just..." she paused, trying to form a coherent description of what he felt towards Peter. "...want to strangle him sometimes."

"So you hate him."

"I hate him."

Caspian laughed again and Susan swore she could listen to that laugh for the rest of her life and not get tired of it.

Then his eyes brightened, as if he just made a discovery. "Oh, I love this song."

Susan heared what he meant. The fauns who were playing the violin and lutes had just switched from a jolly beat to a slow song.

Caspian studied Susan as she looked away from him to look at the fauns playing the tune.

She looked really beautiful. When Caspian went for her in her room, he almost had to pick up his jaw from the ground when he saw her. He had to mentally slap his face almost everytime as they left her bedchambers to concentrate on where they were going, especially when they descended those long flights of stairs. Even Peter, who was practically Susan's archnemesis since they first met, couldn't help but be awestruck at her. And he couldn't blame him.

Caspian couldn't believe how lucky he was, having her as his partner for the night. So he couldn't blame the guests either when they commented how cozy they were to each other because he couldn't bring himself to be away from her.

 _Yep_ , he thought. _I'm definitely in way deep._

"Do you want to dance?" Caspian asked, suddenly.

Susan turned her head to the side, looking at Caspian incredulously as if he had just spoken an alien language.

"Pardon?" she asked.

"I said," Caspian repeated, smiling. "Do you want to dance?"


	16. Sparks

_Dance?_ If there was one art in theater that Susan hated the most, it's dance.

Back at England, they used to have various lessons about the different types of dances and she _hated_ them. She could definitely dance but she hated doing it. She had refused to dance in front of the whole class when her teacher asked her to. She had refused to dance in front of the said teacher even though she knew it was the final exam for passing the subject. Heck, she had even rebuffed a guy who she had a huge crush with when he asked her to go with him to one of the school dances. Dancing in the center of the Great Hall with all these people from different places that she barely know? _Yeah_ , she thought, _forget it._

"I'm sorry, Caspian, but--" Susan said, slowly so that she wouldn't hurt his feelings. "I just... I don't dance."

"Oh, come on," the King stood up from his chair. "Just follow my lead. And, besides, I know you're a fast learner. You can learn to dance in a matter of seconds."

Susan laughed. She knew that if it was other guys (even the said guy she had a crush on at England) she'd give them a punch on the face for even implying she couldn't dance. But it was Caspian. And she found it cute that he thought she had two feet. "It's not that I don't know how to dance," she reasoned. "I just... _don't_ like to dance."

"Please?" he held out his hand, his chocolate brown eyes pleading.

 _Damn those baby browns_ , she thought.

"Caspian, really--" Susan said, stammering, looking away for a few seconds to avoid his tempting gaze. "I don't--"

"Your Majesties," a faun suddenly appeared out of nowhere and interrupted Susan, which she was really grateful for. She didn't know if she can rebuff Caspian when he's flashing those damn, beautiful brown eyes at her. She felt so relieved that she didn't even correct the faun for calling her "Your Majesty."

These past few days, the palace staff had been treating Susan and her siblings like royalties. Especially her. They were constantly calling her "My Lady" and "Your Highness" and "Your Majesty" that she just wanted to barf. She was just a common girl, for crying out loud. Sure, she and her siblings were prophesized to save Narnia but they were just common people. They couldn't even hold their teacups right when out in an afternoon tea with Peter and Caspian.

Susan had already told this fact to anyone who would call her those titles but she would just get a smile in return, which frustrates her.

But what frustrates her even more was that Edmund seemed to love being called "My Lord" and Lucy seemed to blush everytime people call her "My Lady" and then giggle.

That kind of talking also made Susan nervous and scared. What if she would fail to save Narnia? What if, because of her, there will be no Narnia to be a "Your Majesty" of?

Susan shook her head mentally.

_Faith, she thought. You've got to have faith._

"My King," the faun said, bringing Susan back to the present. "Aslan requests your presence."

At the mention of the Great Lion's name, Susan shivered a little. She had not seen Aslan ever since her first night in Narnia when he told her about the prophecy.

"Aslan?" Caspian asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "He's here?"

"Yes, Your Highness," the faun replied. "And he said that it is of the most utmost importance that he talks with you."

Caspian looked at Susan. It was clear in his eyes that he still wants that dance.

"Go," Susan said, gently. "It's Aslan. You don't want to keep him waiting."

"Okay," the King sighed. "But I'll be back. Don't go anywhere." He flashed her a smile.

She smiled in return and watched him go towards the direction of the court room, wondering how she could get through the next couple of minutes (or hours) in the Hall without his company.

***

After Caspian disappeared, Susan sat there silently, looking at the few pairs dancing under the great chandelier of the Hall while sipping occasionally at her glass of grape juice. It was her fourth in the night. Edmund had told her that the juice had a not-so-strong wine. If what he said is true, then she should be proud of herself for being able to hold that much alcohol in her system without getting woozy.

She was pondering again on whether she should get out and breathe some fresh air at the beach, when a lord from who-knew-where came up beside her. She wasn't really sure if he was a lord (Susan had been introduced to a lot of lords that night but couldn't recall being introduced to this person standing beside her) but considering the amount of jewelries around his neck, wrist, and fingers, she figured he might be one.

"So, you're the one in the prophecy, eh?" he asked. "The Daughter of Eve? The one that is supposed to "save" Narnia?"

By the smell of her breath, Susan knew immediately that the guy was bordering on drunk.

"I don't know why but Narnia seemed to be always on danger," he continued.

"Um--" Susan watched the guy drank a whole glass of red wine (this time, she was _sure_ it was a red wine) in one gulp, saw some of it trickling down his beard, and she tried not to gag.

"You are her, right?" the man (she refused to think of him as a lord with his current disgusting state) asked again.

"Yes," she replied curtly.

The guy picked a napkin from the table and wiped the trickles of wine off his beard. Then he eyed Susan from head to toe which made her uncomfortable.

"You're beautiful," he said, with a smile on his face that was very disgusting.

"Thank you." Susan replied, forcing a polite smile on her lips. "I'm sorry--"

"You know," the guy took a step closer to Susan that she instantly got up from her chair and stepped back. His breath smelled like rotten bananas that she fought the urge to vomit. "With that beauty of yours, you would do well in ruling by my side in my country, instead of wasting it in a barbarian land like this."

With each word, the guy takes a step closer to Susan. And everytime he did, she takes a step back. She prayed that she would bump into someone that would ultimately relieve her of this guy's presence but there was no one.

"Uh--" Susan said, looking around for a way out. This guy's parents must had been too busy attending court meetings that they hadn't got the time to teach their son how to respect a lady.

Until, finally, her back bumped into someone.

"Thank you, Prince Rabadash," a familiar voice spoke behind Susan. "I'll take it from here."

The owner of the voice placed a hand on Susan's waist, sending an electric current all over her body.

It was Peter.

Rabadash ( _what kind of name is that?_ thought Susan, trying hard not to laugh) looked at Peter with irritation in his eyes.

"Tell me, _King_ Peter _,_ " the Prince said in a mocking voice. "Did your parents ever taught you not to interrupt people who are talking? Oh, wait," he put a finger on his temple as if thinking, then he said, "You don't have one."

Susan felt Peter bristle beside her.

Peter slipped his hand from Susan's waist and took a step closer to Rabadash. The look on his face must had been terrifying because Rabadash took a step back.

"Tell me, _Prince_ Rabadash," Peter mimicked. "Doesn't it occur in your brain that you smell disgusting? Oh, that's right. You don't have one."

Rabadash took another step backward, his eyes in panic. His hand reached for the handle of his scimitar that was hanging by his side. He gripped the hilt as if he was about to draw it.

Seeing this, Susan gripped Peter's arm. If a fight would break out between him and this not-so-educated prince because of her, she didn't know if she could sleep tonight.

Peter, however, was not afraid of Rabadash's gesture. Instead, his eyes glittered with anticipation for a duel. He didn't care if they would be fighting in the midst of his birthday party or in front of many guests. Bullying him, Peter could stand that, since Rabadash had been doing it forever. But disrespecting this certain daughter of Eve who, at the moment, had an ironclad hold on his arm? The Prince deserved some butt-kicking.

"Go on." Peter said, his voice low but challenging. "Draw it. You know you can't beat me in swordfighting Rabadash."

"I-- I w-will--" Rabadash stuttered, looking terrified with beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Susan could see him shivering despite the warmth in the Great Hall.

"Yeah. I bet you will." Peter said.

He turned around and faced Susan. As much as he badly wanted to punch Rabadash on his nose, Peter knew he should not. Just by reading her expression, he knew that Susan wouldn't want a brawl.

So he held out his hand to her.

"Care for a dance?" Peter asked.

He knew it might be a bad idea. She might say no and embarrass him in front of Rabadash. Or worse, she might say yes and he'd step on her toes in the dance floor.

Susan gaped at his outstretched hand.

Had she mentioned before how she hated dancing?

But it was either that or staying there with a certain prince who seemed to have an ego problem.

"Okay." Susan replied, taking Peter's hand.

He suddenly felt like his hand was on fire.


	17. Twists

Before Peter led Susan to the center of the dance floor, the Great Hall was so bright, thanks to its enormous chandelier, that it almost felt like it was daytime.

But as the blonde-haired King and the daughter of Eve got to the middle of the Hall, right underneath the chandelier, the lights dimmed, suddenly enveloping them all in a bluish light. Although it wasn't completely dark (Susan could still see Rabadash standing immobile by the table, still on the same position when she and Peter left him), but it _definitely_ wasn't bright either.

It made Susan uncomfortable.

Peter gently turned her to face him. He put a hand on her waist and grasped her hand firmly while Susan placed her other hand on his shoulders. Then the fauns playing the lutes started a new song and the dance began.

At first, Susan was worried that she might accidentally step on Peter's toes, considering that she wasn't from Narnia and not quite familiar with their dances. But as she moved to Peter's lead, she realized that it was just _waltz._

They danced in time with the music, both feeling a little awkward. Peter was looking at a spot above her head. Susan was staring at something on his shoulder.

The both of them were _archenemies._ However hard Caspian tried to make them get along, they couldn't find it in themselves to refrain from driving the other person crazy. Neither of them could stand the annoying presence of the other. So the both of them waltzing that evening in the middle of the Great Hall with almost all the pair of eyes turned their way was the last, like the last _last_ , thing on both of their minds when they woke up that morning.

Peter was keeping distance from her, feeling jittery. He convinced himself that it was because he didn't want her to freak out and call him a maniac just because he had an awkward hand on her waist. But a small, irritating part of his brain was suggesting that it might be because of what he felt earlier that night when he saw her descend that staircase.

 _Yep_ , he thought. _I'm drunk_.

He tried to concentrate on other things to calm his nerves- like the panicked expression on Rabadash's face when he had intimidated him and how good the food during dinner had tasted- anything but the fact that Susan looked really beautiful, and that the hand that was gripping hers were so sweaty and maybe disgusting, and--

"Thank you," Susan said suddenly, interrupting his wild thoughts. "For getting me away from that prince."

"Oh, that?" he replied, etching a smile on his face. "It's nothing. I couldn't let him bully you, could I? I'm the only one that is allowed to do that."

"Still, he could've hurt you. That scimitar looked pretty sharp."

"He's a jerk." Peter said, twirling Susan around. "He couldn't beat me in swordfighting. Even his father couldn't. He'd be lucky if he'd ever manage to leave as much as a scratch on my skin."

For a moment, Susan studied him, looking at him very hard that he felt anxious, wondering if he had something on his face. Considering the amount of pudding he had consumed before going to Susan's rescue from Rabadash, he might had. He had half the mind to bring a hand to his face and wipe off whatever it is he suspected was on it.

"What?" Peter asked, eyebrows raised.

"Exactly how much wine did you have at dinner?" Susan asked seriously.

"Why?"

"Because you're acting so nice to me."

_Believe me, I'm asking myself the same thing._

"Normally, you act like a douchebag--"

"Hey!"

"But now," Susan fought off an amused smile. "It seemed like you're not the Peter I had almost shot with my arrow a few days ago."

"I'm still not over it, you know." the King said, absentmindedly wrinkling his nose. "My nose wouldn't stay still after that."

Susan laughed, giving Peter a wrench in the gut.

 _That's it, tomorrow,_ Peter thought, _I'm going to see the physician. I might have drank too much wine tonight._

"I'm sorry for that," she said. "I guess I just overreacted.

"No surprise." he countered.

"Seriously, who are you tonight?" Susan asked, playfully. "The Peter I know wouldn't save me from anyone."

"Oh, I'm still the same Peter." the blonde-haired King promised, matching her playful voice. "And, I saved you once, remember? Or have you forgotten about that Minotaur who would have decapitated you if it wasn't for me and my gallantry?

"Gallantry?" Susan asked. "Oh, please. For all I know, you only saved me because you felt like it is your duty to save distressing damsels."

"It definitely is my duty. I'm a King, remember?"

"Thanks for reminding me. I totally forgot about that."

Peter chuckled at her wit. He had to admit that she was the only person he knew who could hold her ground against him in a banter. Caspian was alright but only she could bring out his sarcasm.

"I'm doing this for my brother," Peter said. "It is Caspian's greatest wish tonight that we would stop trying to strangle each other's throats and just get along."

At the mention of Caspian's name, Susan couldn't help but feel guilty. She had refused to dance with him, and now she's twirling under the arms of his brother.

Peter noticed that Susan looked away from him, and that her smile seemed to slightly dissipate. He knew why. He had seen her refuse Caspian when he asked her to dance, after all. And, no, he wasn't spying. He just happened to see them when he was craning his neck to look for Lucy.

"Where is he anyway?" Peter asked, clearing his throat. "Wasn't he with you after dinner?"

"He was," Susan replied. "But Aslan had summoned him."

"Aslan?" he asked, surprised. "He's here?"

"Yes," she looked up at him. "Didn't you know?"

"No," When did Aslan arrive? Why wasn't he informed? And why did he summon Caspian?

"Well," Susan said, trying to reassure him. "Maybe he just arrived. And maybe it was really important that he needs to talk to Caspian immediately that he didn't tell you he's here."

"Yeah, maybe." Peter nodded. Though he couldn't shake a strange feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite explain.

They danced in silence for a moment and Peter wondered why Aslan was suddenly in Narnia and he had summoned his brother. Was it something about the White Witch and her army? If so, why wasn't he summoned too? After all, they were both Kings of Narnia.

Susan, it seemed, was wondering the same thing as him because she asked, "There aren't any... new surprises at Narnia's borders, are there?"

"No," Peter replied. "Just the occasional hags and werewolves. Not something that we couldn't deal with."

Susan nodded, but Peter could see the worry in her blue eyes.

For the first time since Peter had asked her to dance, he stared at Susan. Her five days in Narnia had completely changed her. He was sure that she was no longer that girl he met in Lantern Waste when she came face to face with a Minotaur. Peter could feel the callouses on her fingers as he held her hand, the result of practicing archery practically from morning to evening. Her blue eyes looked so calculating that every time she stared at him, she looked like she was figuring out the perfect place on his body to impale her arrow with. He knew that if she would be given the chance to face that Minotaur again, this time it would be the Minotaur who would be screaming.

And there was Caspian, one of the people who had changed her life. Everyone in Cair Paravel knew that their Seafarer King was in love with her. And they also knew that she would become, one day, a Queen of Narnia. Whether by being married to Caspian or not.

 _What a perfect match!_ they always say.

Peter had no idea if Susan felt the same way for Caspian. But these past few days, he could see how she looked at his brother. And it was more than a friendly look.

But as Peter looked at her now, twirling gracefully under his arms, he felt _something_ in his gut that he couldn't explain. Something he was not supposed to be feeling.

_What the bloody hell's wrong with me?_

Suddenly, without thinking, he blurted out, "Do you love Caspian?"

Susan looked up at him, taken aback, her eyes wide with surprise. She stopped swaying with him. "What?" she asked, her voice low but shocked.

He might as well run to the nearest appetizer table and burrow his head into one of the soup bowls. That way, his mouth might stop saying words and asking questions without his bloody permission.

 _Well_ , _I started this,_ Peter thought, giving up. _I might as well finish this._

And, besides, he wanted to know.

At that moment, he was sure that he was hyperventilating.

"I said," Peter started the dance again, leading her step by step that eventually she followed. But she wasn't looking at him anymore. "Do you love Caspian?" he repeated.

Susan couldn't answer. Her heart was beating fast, making her _very_ uncomfortable and fidgety. Uncomfortable enough that she wanted to flee from Peter immediately and fidgety enough that she could feel his hands on her hand and waist even more vividly than before.

Why was he asking that question? Why did he _had_ to ask that question? Out of all the million questions that could be ask when a King of Narnia and a common girl from another world dance with each other, why _that_?

Susan looked up at Peter again. She met his startling blue gaze. He was looking at her very intently that he seemed to look straight to her soul, giving her that annoying shiver down her spine.

_There's something in those eyes..._

Did she really feel that way towards Caspian? Deep down inside? Was she really in love with him? Or (she hadn't thought about it before) was she inlove of the feeling that he gave him?

"I don't know." she said, honestly. "These past few days were like a whirlwind that I--" she swallowed. "--haven't given it enough thought. I'm not sure if it's... _that_."

And she felt relieved for saying the truth. And she didn't even care and hesitate to tell Peter, despite knowing that he was Caspian's brother and there was a huge possibility that he might tell him. And another huge possibility that he would hate him after admitting her confused feelings towards Caspian (well, hate her much more than before.) They just didn't occur to her. It just felt... _right_ to tell him, although she couldn't explain why.

 _Maybe, because... no,_ she mentally pushed that initial thought away from her mind immediately. She dare not finish that thought.

Because she didn't know what she would do if she even _think_ of that thought.

Peter was having trouble breathing now. As he looked straight to Susan's blue eyes (and oh God, she wasn't looking away), he felt that tugging sensation in his stomach again.

And it didn't feel wrong anymore.

And _now,_ he recognized what it means.

Neither of them realized that they had drifted closer to each other. Peter's arm was now completely incircling her waist, drawing her close, while his other hand held hers tightly but gently. Susan's other hand was now sure as she gripped his shoulder, marveling how broad it was and how the heck hadn't she notice that before?

They were oblivious to their surroundings. Neither of them realized that they were the only couple left in the dance floor. All the pairs of eyes in the Great Hall were turned their way and they didn't notice.

Susan was only looking at him.

Peter was only looking at her.

And everything else was only a blur.

And neither of them noticed a certain black-haired King looking at them, with a small scowl on his face.


	18. Envies

Caspian's brother and the girl that he likes _hated_ each other's guts. That much was obvious during the past few days that he was with them. Sometimes, he just wanted to take them into the tallest tower of Cair Paravel and lock them up there until they realize that their childish banters and fights are driving the other occupants of Cair crazy.

When he woke up that morning and it sank in that it was his birthday, he wished that Peter and Susan would finally get along. Or, you know, not make a scene with another one of their childish fights later that night in front of a few hundred guests.

But now that Caspian was looking at them dancing so... _sweetly_ while they give each other those... _stares_ , Caspian felt something stirring in his chest which he couldn't quite explain what.

Then there's the fact that earlier, when he had asked Susan to dance, she had refused, saying that she doesn't like to dance. And yet there she was, twirling gracefully under Peter's arms.

Before he knew it, Caspian's eyebrows was scrunched together in a scowl.

Caspian had half the mind to go over their direction and gently tell his brother not to get a move on his girl. But there are a lot of things that's stopping him. One, because he knew he would look stupid (and bad) to their guests if he'd do it. Two, he knew they would be the subject of gossips if he'd do it. The residents of Cair already knew that she had feelings for the daughter of Eve. He could already hear whispers among the castle's staff as they watched Peter and Susan, and he suspected he heard his name mentioned into the mix. And three, how could he tell his brother not to get a move on his girl when she wasn't even his girl? True, he had already told her what he felt and she didn't rebuff him but she didn't say she returned those feelings either. Sure, she would blush everytime he'd compliment her and she'd slightly fidget everytime he was around her, but she hadn't said _anything_.

When the fauns stopped playing and the dance ended, the Great Hall burst into applause.

Stunned, as if they had just come to their senses, Peter and Susan looked around the Hall. Seeing the faces of the guests and the Narnians, and noting how they are all around the both of them as if they were watching them all this time (which they really were), they looked at each other and smiled sheepishly. Peter, grinning, bowed at her. Susan, matching his grin, did a little curtsy. Then they burst into laughter.

As if they hadn't just shared the most intimate dance that the both of them (separately, of course) did.

Not long after, another music started, and the guests headed to the dance floor once again. But Peter and Susan, both feeling a little lightheaded (they blamed it on the wine), went back to the direction of the table they had left a few minutes ago.

"You're a graceful dancer," Peter said to Susan.

"Thanks," Susan smiled, trying to mask the blush that was creeping up to her cheeks. Was it because of the compliment or the fact that she had just slow danced with this blonde-haired King who she has difficulty looking in the eye? She didn't know the answer. "You're not a terrible dancer either."

Peter couldn't keep rolling his eyes. "Oh, please. When you've been taught how not to step on your partner's toes for two years--"

"That's terrible!" she exclaimed.

"I know, right?" he said. "And when--"

"Oh, no. Not you. Your partner. It must be terrible for her. I bet she wasn't able to walk for, like, weeks."

Peter shot Susan a look. "Very funny, Pevensie."

The raven-haired girl's eyes danced with humor. "Hey! I'm just saying that it's not easy for girls if boys are always stepping on their toes when they dance. A lot of my friends back at England can prove that."

"But not you?"

"No," she shook her head. "I don't dance. So my toes are inexperienced with that kind of pain."

"But you did the waltz right!" Peter said. "How could--"

"I watch and learn, Your Majesty," Susan said.

When they got to the table, they each grabbed a cup filled half-brim with wine and took a sip.

"I'm not always stepping on my partner's toes, you know." Peter said. "Well, only just sixty percent at a time-- or ninety, I don't count--"

Susan laughed.

Peter felt that lurch in his stomach again.

He stared at Susan, who was still a little red face. If it was because of the wine or because of their dance, he didn't bother to find out. One second, he felt goosebumps running up his spine. The next second, he was draining his cup in a few gulps.

"Forget it," Peter said.

"Enjoying ourselves, are we?" a familiar voice asked.

Caspian.

He was standing in front of them, smiling in a strange way that neither Peter nor Susan noticed.

"Caspian," Susan said, smiling. "Hey."

"Susan," Caspian replied. "You never said you're a graceful dancer. Or was it Peter that made you that way?"

 _That_ wiped the smile off Susan's face.

She drained her cup of wine.

"You saw that?" Peter asked and he was surprised his voice didn't shake.

Back there when Susan had confessed that she didn't exactly loved Caspian, he had this feeling of relief from the guilt he felt for dancing with Susan. Back then, he had this feeling that what he was doing wasn't wrong and that he wasn't treading lines.

But now, looking at his brother and seeing clearly the hurt in his eyes, he felt angry at himself for being so selfish.

Caspian looked at him. And his gaze felt a little... _wrong_.

"Trust me," he said. "The both of you were hard to miss. Did you know that the Hall _froze_ while you danced?"

Peter couldn't find a respond to that. Caspian sounded... _wrong_.

Susan fidgeted uncomfortably with the gaze Caspian gave Peter. She now realized that Caspian didn't like what she and Peter did. But it wasn't Peter's fault alone. It seemed wrong for Caspian to direct that... _strange_ gaze on Peter. He should direct that gaze on _her_ , because she was the one who refused his request but accepted Peter's.

Then it her suddenly like an arrow out of nowhere.

 _Oh, Aslan,_ she thought. _Is he_ jealous?

 _Nope_ , her brain countered immediately. _That's ridiculous. He couldn't be. He shouldn't be. We just shared a dance. It didn't mean anything_...

... _right_ _?_

"Caspian," Susan suddenly said, "Do you know a Prince Rabadash?"

Caspian looked at her, eyebrows raised, and his slightly intense gaze lessened. "The Prince of Calormen? Yes."

"Well," Susan started slowly, the mere thought of the said Prince brought back the memory of his scent and made her want to throw up. "I met him. He came up to me. He said... _things_."

" _What?"_ Caspian's voice raised. Judging by his tone, he wasn't also a big Prince Rabadash fan. "What kinds of things?"

"Oh, you know," she said. "He trash talked Narnia. He even offered me to be his wife." She couldn't help but shiver.

All the expression earlier drained from Caspian's face as Susan spoke. He knew he shouldn't have invited that sorry excuse of a prince. Peter didn't want to. But Caspian insisted because the Prince's father, the Tisroc, is a powerful ruler over a powerful land which what Narnia needs, especially now when she is close to another war.

And the said Tisroc was also sensitive. He would see it as an insult if Archenland gets an invite but Calormen doesn't.

Rabadash always had an ego problem but Caspian and Peter had gotten use to it. But Susan who was still new to the land and wasn't at all acquainted with the Prince... Caspian should have been there to keep Rabadash in his toes. Instead, he'd been pacing around the council room all the time, letting Aslan's news to sink in...

"Luckily," Susan continued. "Peter arrived before Rabadash could get too far with his... words. And I'm really grateful to him for that. Honestly, he was the last person in my mind who would get me out of that Prince's presence but..." she looked at Peter for a few seconds then returned her gaze back to Caspian. "He came through."

Peter glanced at Susan but she was looking at Caspian, focusing on what his reaction would be.

Caspian looked at Peter.

There was a few seconds of silence during Susan stared back and forth from Peter to Caspian, a little worried that she might have fueled Caspian's (no, she refuse to think that it was jealousy) feelings about the dance.

Peter's expression betrayed no discomfort but, deep inside him, he was feeling _very_ uncomfortable with Caspian's look.

Caspian was looking at Peter in the eye, as if he was looking for something that only his brother's eyes could tell.

After what seemed like an hour, Caspian's face broke into a friendly-- _brotherly_ \-- smile.

"Of course, he did." he said fondly.

"I told you," Peter said, who was finally able to breathe evenly. "We never should have invited him."

"I know, brother." Caspian chuckled. "Next time we'll host a ball, you'll be in charge of the guest list."

 _Okay_ , Susan sighed in relief. _I need another drink._

Peter laughed at his brother's words.

For a moment, the blonde-haired King and the daughter of Eve's gazes momentarily met. But at the same time, they both looked away


	19. Duties

Susan blinked and cleared her throat. "What did Aslan say, Caspian?" she asked.

At her question, Caspian's went grim once again.

The news. Just by thinking about it made him feel guilty.

How could he tell them? How could he tell them about the mission the Great Lion had given him? How could he tell them that he'd be abandoning them for two months knowing that the attacks on Narnia's borders have been increasing lately? How could--

Susan studied the black-haired King for those few seconds he went silent. "Caspian?" she asked quietly. "Are you alright?" She approached him and placed a gentle hand on his arm.

"I'm fine." Caspian managed a smile. "I just--"

Peter, who was trying not to look at Susan's hand on Caspian's arm and then mentally slapping himself for even caring, asked, "What did he say, brother?"

After another few minutes of silence on Caspian's part, during which Peter and Susan looked at each in worry about what Aslan had said that caused Caspian to suddenly have that unnerved look on his face, that the Seafarer King finally answered, "I'm leaving. Tomorrow."

" _What?"_ Susan asked, with her mouth falling open.

"Why?" Peter asked, his eyebrows scrunched together in shock and confusion.

Caspian sighed, lightly shaking his head. "It's the Lone Islands. Remember the slave trade issue that we solved there last year?"

Peter nodded, his confused expression seemed to double. "But it has been taken care of. Lord Bern assured us that the Islands is free from slavery."

The Seafarer King shrugged. "Yes, well, apparently, slave dealers still had been working in secret all these months. BLord Bern found out but it's already too late. It's getting worse. Lone Islanders are starting to go missing and Lord Bern found out that they were being sold to other countries."

"And now," Susan supplied. "Aslan wanted you to go there to settle the issue yourself."

Caspian nodded grimly. "Yeah."

"For how long?" Peter asked.

"A couple of months or more," Caspian sighed. "Depending on how bad it really is."

"A couple of months?" Susan's mouth fell open in shock. "B-but--"

"I know, Susan." Caspian held her hand. "I don't want to leave, too. I want to stay here and protect Narnia _and_ you. But--" he sighed. He was very at loss for words that he didn't continue what he was about to say. He just hung his head down and caressed Susan's hand.

Peter grew uncomfortable with his brother and Susan's position-- which was quite knew to him since everytime Susan and Caspian show affection to each other the past few days, all he wanted to do was snort and laugh. But this time, he did not feel the urge to laugh. Not even a little. Which made him guilty and even _more_ uncomfortable.

He put a hand on Caspian's shoulder and said, "Don't worry, Caspian. I'm here to fight the kingdom if an attack will happen. And as for protecting Susan--" Here, Peter looked at Susan who still got that shocked expression on her face. "Well, she doesn't really need protection, does she?" he said, jokingly.

Susan met his blue eyes. "No, I don't," she confirmed, her voice serious.

Peter shook his head in amusement.

"Of course, you don't, My Lady." Caspian smiled, squeezing Susan's hand that was still on his arm.

"And, besides," Peter added. "The Lone Islanders need you. You may be their only hope."

Caspian looked at him strangely which made Peter wonder if he said something that offended his brother. Was it that part about Susan? Was he still mad at him for dancing with her?

Then the Seafarer's King broke into a smile. "That's a great pep talk coming from the Emperor of the Lone Islands."

Peter rolled his eyes and suppressed a smile. "Whatever."

"So what time are you leaving tomorrow?" Susan asked Caspian.

"At sunrise," he replied. "The ship and crew are all ready so are the rations we will bring. Even my clothes too, come to think of it."

"Looks like your ladies-in-waiting are informed before you." Peter said thoughtfully with a laugh.

"Obviously." Caspian agreed.

"Well, then, what are you waiting for, Your Highness?" Susan asked bossily. "Time to go to rest! You'll be having a big day tomorrow."

"Not a chance." Caspian countered with a smile etched on his face. "It's still early. And I haven't danced with you yet."

At first, Peter thought that Susan would agree to dance with Caspian, considering the amazement on her face.

But she said, "Oh, no. You'll have your dance once you come back from Lone Islands."

***

When the party was finally over and all the inhabitants of Cair Paravel returned to their chambers, Susan couldn't get over the fact that Caspian would be leaving in the morning.

As she stared at herself in the mirror, erasing all the substances that her ladies-in-waiting had put on her face earlier, she kept thinking of his departure at sunrise tomorrow. Sure, she knows that it was very important that Caspian had to go to Lone Islands. Lives were at stake. She understands that.

But he'll be leaving her for a couple of freaking months (or more) with his brother who she couldn't take her mind off.

Susan's skin still feel shivery even though her dance with Peter were over for four hours now. Never, in her life, had she allowed _anyone_ to hold her that close before. Not even one of her guy bestfriends back at England. If one would even attempt, she'd immediately send her fist crashing with that person's nose.

But earlier, she didn't understand why she didn't fled from Peter's hold when he held her _very_ close, so close that she could literally feel his heartbeat. And what was that inexplicable feeling she felt during their dance? And why the bloody hell did she also hold him close?

Susan went to her wardrobe and took her red dress off. And, as she pulled it off of her, she caught a whiff of a familiar scent on it. Peter's scent, still clinging on her dress as if he was still there beside her.

Frustrated, Susan threw herself on her bed-- wearing the underdress that she wore under her dress earlier-- and screamed on her pillow.

Yep, she thought. I'm officially going crazy.

_***_

Lying on his bed, with his celebration clothes and boots still on, Peter stared at his chamber's ceiling once again. And he couldn't keep his mind off the dance he had with Susan Pevensie either.

As he lay there, he could still smell her sweet scent rubbing off of his clothes, and he couldn't help but feel a tingle down his spine when he remembered how Susan twirled under his arms gracefully during that dance, how her hair brushed against his cheeks...

And as he flashbacked on the way how she smiled up at him, how he held her close to him, he felt a wrench on his gut. That very same wrench that he felt four hours ago as he stared into Susan's eyes, unblinking.

It had seemed so long ago that he hated her, that she annoyed him, that he couldn't even stand five feet from her. And now he's feeling something for her that he was not supposed to be feeling.

He turned on his bed, grabbed the pillow off from the back of his head and forced it over his face.

_I certainly am not falling for Susan Pevensie._

And Caspian would be leaving in the morning... For a couple of months...

***

_Forget that dance even happened, Susan Pevensie!_

***

 _I_ can't _be falling for Susan Pevensie._


	20. Restarts

At sunrise, Susan was already on her balcony, staring across the Eastern Sea.

She didn't have any proper sleep the night before. After lying on her bed for hours and hours, stuffing her pillows to her face, forcing her brain to calm down and just stop _thinking_ , she gave up and went to her balcony. She thought if she'd breathe in Narnia's air, her mind would finally calm down and allow her a few minutes of sleep. But she was still very wide awake. Before she knew it, the night sky was slowly fading to light.

Below her, she could see the crew of Caspian's ship going back and forth across the shore, boarding the _Dawn Treader_ with barrels, baskets, sacks and chests. She could see some of the men bustling over the ropes on the deck of the ship, lashing it over the mast, and tying it. Some of the men brought out a rowboat large enough for three people and left it on the shore. Then, as Susan could see, oars jutted out from the side of the ship and they started moving, rowing the _Treader_ towards the open sea. Susan knew they'd be waiting for Caspian there.

Susan closed her eyes and breathed in the morning air, clutching her duvet cover tightly around her. For the past few days, this had become her routine every morning after waking up. Going out to her balcony, dragging with her her duvet covers, and just feel the Narnian air on her cheeks.

She heard a knock on her door.

"Su?" Lucy's voice asked.

"Here," she called out.

A few seconds later, she felt a familiar presence beside her. Her younger sister leaned unto the railings of the balcony and stared down at the sea, fixing her gaze on the _Dawn Treader_ that was now already on deep waters. Somehow, Susan got the feeling that Lucy already knew that Caspian was keaving that morning. Though how she knew, she had no idea. She suspected it was because Lucy was a very early-riser and that she had found out about it in the kitchen through the cooks. No doubt she had already told Edmund about it. Susan could only imagine her brother's grumpy attitude. Edmund was not a morning person. Especially now, here in Narnia, with all his swordfighting lessons during the day.

"You have a very beautiful view up here, Su." Lucy said.

"I know," Susan agreed.

"So Caspian is really leaving." Lucy said, hugging her velvet sleeping cloak around her. Susan thought about her own sleeping cloak that was still draped around her chair inside her bedchambers and almost felt silly, wrapped in her duvet cover. Almost.

"Yes," Susan answered. "He has to settle a slavery issue in the Lone Islands." She looked at her sister. "How did you know?"

Lucy shrugged. "Peter."

Hearing Peter's name made Susan flashedback again on what happened the night before. She shivered. And it wasn't because of the morning breeze.

"We should go down now," Lucy said, after what felt like a lifetime. "Edmund's already downstairs."

***

When they got to the shore, Caspian, Edmund, and Peter were already there with a red-haired man that Susan was familiar with but didn't quite know by name.

"Susan," Caspian said once he saw her, his face brightening up.

"Hey." Susan replied, smiling softly.

Her eyes went over to Peter, who looked like he didn't have any sleep either. He smiled gently at her. She couldn't help but flashedback on how he smiled at her back during that dance.

She smiled back.

"I'm afraid it's time for me to go," Caspian said quietly.

"Yeah, I think so, too." Susan replied. "Do you have everything you need for the journey?"

Caspian smiled. "Yes, My Lady. Don't worry."

"Good." Susan returned his smile. "Off with you then."

Caspian chuckled once again then embraced her. It was the first time they hugged and Susan was taken aback at it at first before she hugged him back. She wished Caspian didn't feel the sudden jump in her heartbeat.

Lucy immediately cut in after Susan, clinging to Caspian hard. "Please bring me one of those necklaces I've read so much about in Lone Islands," she said.

Caspian laughed, ruffling Lucy's blonde hair fondly. "Of course, Lu. No problem."

"Are you sure I can't come along with you?" Edmund said when it was his turn to hug the King.

"I'd take you but I'm sure Susan won't let you," Caspian replied, chuckling.

"No, I won't." Susan agreed.

"Good luck, Caspian." Peter said, hugging his brother tight. "I know you can do it. You're the best envoy in Narnia. People just can't resist your charm."

"Would've been better if you're with me," Caspian replied.

"Well," Peter said. "Aslan gave you the job. If he believes you can settle this issue on your own, then so do I."

"I'll do my best, brother," Caspian patted his blonde-haired twin's shoulder.

"Don't worry," Peter added. "Everything will be fine."

"I know." Caspian replied. He pulled Peter for another hug and whispered to his ear, "While I'm gone, take care of her for me, Pete."

Peter knew that by _her_ , Caspian meant Narnia, the people, and Susan all rolled into one. Though when he thought of Susan's name, an unsettling sensation fell in Peter's gut.

"I will," he replied.

Caspian looked back at Susan and smiled at her. She smiled back and said, "Be careful."

The Seafarer King nodded, "I always am."

Then he and the red-haired man went to the boat and went aboard it. The both of them picked up the oars and started to row towards the _Dawn Treader._ Caspian waved at them one last time before he climbed aboard the ship. Peter waved back.

Susan went to Peter's side with her arms around her, fighting off the early morning breeze. How she wished she could have brought her duvet cover with her. Peter and Susan's looked at each other for a moment before turning their gazes back to Caspian.

A few minutes later, the _Dawn Treader_ was disappearing towards the horizon.

"Su," Edmund asked behind Susan. "Can I go back to the castle now?" He stifled a yawn. "My sleep was cut short by Little Miss Pevensie here." He motioned to Lucy.

Lucy looked at her elder brother. "So you're saying you're not grateful you were given the chance to say goodbye to Caspian?" she raised her eyebrows.

"No," Edmund yawned again. "So can I go back to sleep now?" He asked Susan.

"As if you need my permission," Susan said.

"You're right, I don't," Edmund agreed. "I might be late for our history lessons later, too." He turned his back towards them and started to walk back up the shore to the castle.

"Isn't he always?" Peter asked Lucy jokingly.

"Yeah, he is," Lucy yawned. "And I think I might be late, too."

Susan smiled. "Go."

After Lucy left, a few seconds of silence engulfed Peter and Susan. They continued to stare at the horizon, following the _Treader_ with their eyes until it was only a speckle of dust in the distance.

"Su," Peter finally spoke. "I want to forget whatever silly fights and disagreements we have. Last night..." Peter's voice trailed off for a moment. "...it proves that we can be great friends."

"So you're saying that--" Susan said, turning her attention to him. "--we try to get along?"

"Yes."

"Gee, let me think," Susan looked away to the horizon, pretending to think. "Nah. I don't think I can ever put up with a cocky person like you." She said teasingly.

Peter glared at her. "Believe me, putting up with an annoying person like you is not gonna be a picnic, either."

Susan laughed at that. Peter looked at the way her eyes scrunched together when she laughed and how she didn't even care that her long, raven hair was flying with the strong breeze behind her.

And then she was looking at him, no longer laughing but a genuine smile etched on her face. When did she stop laughing?

"We can start over." she said.

Peter returned her genuine smile. "Great. Of course--" he added, his nose twitching involuntarily. "--this also means that you can't shoot arrows at me or anything that's _five_ inches away from me anymore. You _do_ know that, right?"

Susan chuckled. "I'm not gonna promise anything, Your Majesty. But I'll try not to."


	21. Treasure

"And that's all for archery, Your Majesty. There's nothing else to teach you." Trumpkin looked at the way Susan shoot a pinecone fifty feet in the air. He followed the pinecone with his beaded eyes as it fell to the ground, the eldest Pevensie's arrows lodged in the middle. "I think." he added.

Susan squinted her eyes to get a glimpse of the fallen pinecone, half worried that the dryad of the pine tree the pinecone came from would suddenly jump out of her tree and curse her forever (of course, she had already asked the said dryad's permission before she decided to start decapitating pinecones but still...) and half proud of what she had done.

She just shot a freaking pinecone fifty feet in the air from a pine tree fifty freaking feet from her.

"I just did _that_!" she grinned happily at her her dwarf companion.

"Yes, you did, Your Majesty," Trumpkin nodded, smiling along with the daughter of Eve. "I believe my work here is done."

Susan stared at the Red Dwarf.

"What?" she asked disbelievingly. "But I only learned so little!"

"I believe that that is not true, Lady Susan," Trumpkin said. "You have already learned so much. That pinecone alone..." the Dwarf gestured to its direction on the ground. "I couldn't have managed to hit that."

"I'm sure that is just luck, Trumpkin," Susan couldn't help but blush.

"Personally, I don't believe in luck, Majesty." Trumpkin said gently.

Susan didn't respond to that. She went to a nearby bench and took off the quiver from her back, laying it beside her. She unstrung her bow and placed it across her lap.

Susan had to admit that she really had learned so much from Trumpkin for the past few days she had been practicing her archery skills. She wanted to say that it was because she was a fast-learner (although it was a contributing factor) but she knew it was because of her determination to learn a lot of things as soon as possible. Because she didn't knew when the prophecy would unfold, when the war would come (and she knew there would be), when she'd be given the choice... she wanted to be prepared. And now that Caspian left for who knows how long, who would know that the Witch wouldn't attack knowing Narnia was one King short?

She had to be good enough to fight. There was no way she would cower on her bedchambers and just let the Narnians fight for a prophecy that was about her.

No. She would be out there. On the front lines.

The daughter of Eve turned to Trumpkin. "Am I really not that bad anymore, Trumpkin?"

Trumpkin couldn't help but laugh. "You are _excellent_ , Your Majesty."

"No thanks to you," Susan smiled at the Dwarf.

"Your Majesty is ever so kind," Trumpkin inclined his head slightly to a bow. "Now that our archery lessons has come to an earlier end, may I ask My Lady's permission to leave? My kin are planning to go hunting this afternoon and I wish to join them."

 _Hunting_.

The word brightened up Susan's mind.

What would be a more better way to really test her archery skills? Sure, she'd proven all right at practice but a real battle is a lot different than just standing resolute, shooting an unmoving target, and praying that a gust of wind wouldn't steer the arrow away from it.

"I wish to join, too," Susan said, standing up.

The Dwarf, with obvious surprise etched on his face, stared up at her. "I beg your pardon, Your Majesty?"

"I want to go hunting with you and your kin."

"I'm afraid not, Your Majesty." Trumpkin replied. "It's now dangerous out there, with the weakening of Narnia's barrier. And, forgive me, Majesty, but you don't have that much experience--"

"That's the point, Trumpkin," Susan interrupted the Dwarf. "For weeks, I train and train. Shooting pinecones out of trees, shooting dummies... I want to try something new. No--" she stopped. "I want to try something _real_."

"But, Your Majesty--" Trumpkin was at lost for words. He empathized with what the daughter of Eve was feeling because he, too, felt the same way back when he first knew how to shoot. But that was different. He was not the one in a Great Prophecy foretelling the future of the land he lives. And he was not being hunted by the Witch and the rest of her forces. Not to mention what King Peter would do to him the minute he knows Susan went with him to go hunting. Sure, Peter was one of the most gentle persons he knows but still... Trumpkin knows Susan was somehow important to him, even if they argue all the time. "This is different." he continued. "Narnia's barrier is weak. Who knew what could happen with you out there? And King Peter wouldn't--"

"Oh, leave him to me, my dear little friend." Susan said. "Don't worry."

"But--" the Dwarf stammered, trying very hard not to wring his hands in frustration. Now he understands what Edmund and Lucy was constantly trying to say about their elder sister.

But then the Dwarf looked at the future Queen of Narnia. And as he met her blue eyes, Trumpkin knew how important this was to her. How important it was to prove that she wasn't just merely a daughter of Eve prophesized to make a choice.

"As you wish, Your Majesty," Trumpkin bowed.

***

"No," Peter didn't even look up from the map he was studying.

"Seriously?" Susan raised her eyebrows at the blonde-haired King sitting on a high backed at the head of the table of the council room with both of his hands clasped under his jaw. "You're stopping me from doing what I want?"

"Su," Peter looked up at the daughter of Eve, seriuosly. She had to admit she was slowly getting used to him calling her that. "I'm stopping you from getting into trouble."

Susan couldn't help rolling her eyes. She expected this exact response from Peter the moment she decided to tell him about her plans. She had to force herself not to say anything sarcastic which was hard because it was on automatic everytime she talked to Peter. But considering their pact in the beach that morning, she was trying to hold up her end of the bargain. "Honestly, Peter, you're overreacting."

"I am not!"

"Yes, you are! You're acting like a big brother."

"Trust me, Su. I am very thankful that you are _not_ my sister."

"Say what you want, I don't care," Susan crossed her arms stubbornly. "I'm going."

Peter glared at Susan, frustrated. This is exactly why he hated her when he first met her. She was stubborn, frustrating, and annoying. Did he mention stubborn, frustrating, and annoying?

As he glared at her with her arms folded over her chest, Peter couldn't help but notice the other details about Susan. Her attire, her posture. And the way how her hair- now longer than when she first arrived in Narnia- hung over her shoulders with its ends touching her pale and delicate arms. And how her eyes glittered when she glared back at him-- much like that glitter they had during that dance they had, although a bit less intense and a bit more--

His mind mentally screamed at him for thinking like an idiot.

"Look, Peter," Susan spoke, which effectively switched Peter's concentration from her posture to her voice which had just turned surprisingly gentle. "I _want_ to do this, okay? I want to what I'm really capable of. I want to be there fighting when the war would--"

"No," Peter caught her off. "Don't."

He couldn't let her think like that. He couldn't let her to force herself to go to a hunt to prove herself just because of that stupid prophecy.

If only there waa a way to know where she would be. A way to know if she was in danger or not...

Suddenly, a thought clicked in Peter's head.

No, not a thought. A _thing_. _The_ thing.

Ever since Peter knew about the prophecy about Susan and her siblings, he had been doing a lot of thinking about the eldest Pevensie and the certain treasure that is down in the treasure chambers right now.

_Could she be who it had been waiting for all this time?_

"Okay, fine," Peter relented.

Immediately, Susan's face brightened up and her lips broke into a smile.

"But in one condition." Peter added.

At that, the smile in Susan's face faded a bit.

A condition? As if Susan would stay at the castle even if he hadn't agree to let her go. Was he really that annoyingly protective? Or he was just the same as her? Stubborn to the last word.

But as she looked at him again, staring back at his sky blue eyes, Susan could see that he was _really_ worried. He was not just pretending to be protective just to annoy her.

He was really _worried_ about her.

Susan had to admit a few tingles ran up her spine.

"What is it?" she asked, now slightly curious.

"Come with me." Peter answered, standing up and leading the daughter of Eve out of the council room.

***

Susan's jaw was already dropping before she realized it.

Peter had brought her to an underground chamber filled with riches and treasure. Literally filled. Everywhere she turned her head to, there stood piles of gems. Golds, diamonds, emeralds, rubies and a lot of others she couldn't name. There were even gold cups, gold plates, and portraits that looked simple enough but, judging by it's frame and the painting itself, Susan knew it was as valuable as that nearby pile of topazes that almost reached her knees.

But straight ahead, laid in a red velvet square pillow, incased in glass, was a horn.

And it seemed to be _calling_ to her.

It was just a simple looking horn. Its length about eight inches. Made in ivory with delicate designs carved around it. But what really caught her breath was the mouth of the horn.

It was shaped like a lion's open maw, complete with fangs, as it was roaring.

_Aslan._

As she stared at horn, Susan knew that all the riches and treasures around that chamber were nothing compared to its worth. This horn was, no doubt, the greatest treasure in Narnia.

She forced her eyes away from the glass and turned to Peter. She was about to ask about the so-called condition he brought her down there for when she saw the direction he was leading to.

Peter was leading her to the horn.

"This," Peter started as they stopped in front of the glass case. "is the Horn of Narnia. Entrusted to King Frank, the first King, by Aslan's father himself, the Emperor. Whoever blows this horn, no matter where he or she is, help will come."

Susan barely registered Peter's words. It was as if the horn was constantly calling her attention, making any sound around her seemed like a white noise machine. There was just... _something_ about this horn that she couldn't quietly grasp her mind around.

Her hand yearned to feel the horn, to hold it. And yet, a protective feeling took hold of her too. The urge to guard, protect, and care for the horn as if it was a living thing, as if it was her own.

But then, Peter's words sank into her mind slowly and it took her another few seconds before she understood why he brought her down there.

"Peter," she said incredulously. "You can't be saying--"

But she was cut off by Peter opening the glass case and picking up the horn gently, as if it was the most delicate thing in the world.

"The Emperor once said that the rightful owner of this horn would come one day. He said that he or _she_ \--" he stole a look at Susan. "--would come to the land during one of its great perils. And that _that_ person was destined to save it.

"Nobody had ever used this horn. King Frank swore to guard this with his life, as I and Caspian did, until the rightful owner will come and claim it.

"And she has."

When Peter offered her the horn, Susan stared up at him again, gazed straight into his blue eyes to look for the familiar mischievous glare they constantly have everytime he jokes, or just _look_ , at her. But she could see no trace of them. He was really serious.

Peter nodded at her. "It's _you_ , Susan. You are the owner it had been waiting for for five hundred years."


	22. Vigilance

Susan didn't know whether she should feel honored, safe, or worried.

As she and the Dwarves trudged around Lantern Waste, the same forest Susan and her siblings found themselves in when they first stumble (literally) into Narnia, with bows on their hands and arrows on their strings, Susan was very aware of the Horn of Narnia at her side, hidden inside her satchel.

She didn't know why she was worried. She should feel safe, knowing that (if what Peter said was true) she could only just sound the horn to summon help if she would be in danger. Maybe she was just worried that she might lose the horn. Knowing that it was a treasure practically symbolizing Narnia because the Emperor himself gave it to her King, Susan felt the urge to lay her hand on the satchel every few seconds just to check if it was still there. She was pretty careless.

Or maybe because she was anxious. She couldn't ignore the feeling that something bad was going to happen. Which she found ridiculous because surely, the Witch's minions couldn't have known they'd be hunting in Lantern Waste, right? And that they wouldn't have gotten past the sentinels around Narnia's borders, right? She knew that the barrier around the country that is protecting it from the Witch is weakening lately but the Witch's minions wouldn't really think to attack Narnians in broad daylight, right?

Her mind flashed back to the Minotaur.

Susan mentally slapped herself.

 _Nothing bad is going to happen to you,_ Susan told herself. _The forest is now safe. You are safe._

She tries very hard to believe it.

As she and her thirteen Dwarf companions, including Trumpkin, trudged around the forest, Susan was keeping her senses alert. Not only because she was having a bad feeling but because she was also applying Trumpkin's lessons about always staying vigilant when hunting and trusting her senses.

She also couldn't stop herself from looking around, trying to find the lamppost and avoid it. Because what if she'd find herself groping around the wardrobe again and accidentally stumble back into her world and she couldn't get back to Narnia? Susan remembered when Lucy tried to prove to her and Edmund that she had discovered a land in a wardrobe and when they got inside the said wardrobe all they discovered was its wooden backwall and a few mothballs. She didn't want to go back in her world with no assurance that she could go back to Narnia without her siblings.

And she just _didn't_ want go back to her world, period.

Soon after, they heard a soft rustling to their right. Susan and the Dwarves slowly backed towards a tree, bows ready. Then they looked out to find a brown deer, grazing at the grass a few feet from them. The deer looked small.

Susan saw one of the Dwarves- a black-haired dwarf- raise his bow and arrow, taking aim at the deer.

"How do we know that that creature isn't a Talking Animal?" Susan whispered to Trumpkin beside her.

"Talking Animals are much more bigger than regular animals." Trumpkin explained, whispering back at her.

The Black-haired dwarf release his arrow. The deer fell to the ground, dead.

Three Dwarves went to approach the dead creature and picked it up, placing it inside a satchel-like sack that one of the Dwarves were carrying.

Susan couldn't help but feel sorry for the deer.

They continue to walk around the forest, hoping for more game for them to catch. Unfortunately, after what felt like a lifetime, it dawned on them that the deer they first caught might likely to be their last.

Eventually, they went to the deeper part of the forest. But after a few minutes of wandering around, there was still nothing to shoot.

Susan couldn't help but look around the place, shivering slightly despite the warm temperature. She had this funny feeling that something-- _someone--_ was watching them.

Watching _her._

A rustling sound to her right. She turned her head to see a bush, still lightly shaking.

 _Okay_ , she thought. _There's definitely something behind that._

"This is strange." someone spoke roughly, and the hairs on the back of Susan's neck stood up.

Susan turned to look at the speaker, the corner of her eye still fixed on the bush. It was the black-haired Dwarf who shot the deer earlier.

"What?" Susan asked him.

"It's strange," the Dwarf repeated, his beady black eyes rove suspiciously around the forest.

"What's strange?"

"The forest, Majesty." the Dwarf replied gruffly.

"Why?" Susan's eyebrows scrunched in confusion, though her heartbeat was slowly speeding up knowing that she wasn't going crazy and that somebody else also noticed the strange feeling in the air, which clearly meant a bad thing. "Is there something wrong with the forest?"

"There's something _wrong_ , alright," another black-haired Dwarf replied, snorting a bit.

"What Nikabrik is trying to say, My Lady," Trumpkin interrupted before Nikabrik could say anything, shooting him a pointed and annoyed look. "Is that we don't usually come to these parts of the Waste in our hunts. The game alone in the first parts of the forest from which we had come can easily provide a feast for the whole Cair. But now--"

"--it looked someone got to the games first." Susan finished Trumpkin's statement.

Silence engulfed Susan and the Dwarves. She took a tighter hold on her bow, and clutched anxiously at the horn on her side. Nikabrik, Trumpkin, and the rest of the Dwarves looked around the forest, their beady eyes roving around the place on alert.

Susan fixed her gaze yet again on the bush on her right.

"Oh, shut your yap, the three of you!" one of the other black Dwarves snapped at Trumpkin, Nikabrik, and the first black-haired Dwarf. "Our borders are heavily guarded. _They_ can't overcome our guards much less get in the barrier. And they are stupid enough to know not to try."

And that was when all hell broke lose.


	23. Waylay

_And they are stupid enough to know not to try._

Maybe those words offended them or they were just really itching to attack, the Witch's minions broke into the forest with roars and yelps that nearly broke Susan's eardrums.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to run and hide. But it seemed that she was frozen in place, staring at a leopard jumping out of the nearby bushes that she had been staring earlier (she _knew_ there was something hiding behind it) that would've decapitated her if Nikabrik hadn't shot it with an arrow between its eyes.

"You're Majesty!" Nikabrik yelled, wrestling a hag to the ground. "Look out!"

Susan unfroze.

She swerved to the right, barely missing a wolf which had just jumped behind her. The wolf turned to face her and snarled. It paced back to attack her but before it could, Susan drew an arrow from her quiver. And, within a blink of an eye, killed the wolf with an arrow embedded on its brain.

Susan's eyes widened of what she had done. Her blue eyes darted to her hands, then to her bow.

She had killed a wolf. She-- an English _schoolgirl_ who barely could've punch a bully on the face-- actually killed a wolf.

She barely had time to reminisce on it further, however, because a screaming hag was attacking her. With a yelp, Susan ducked, hitting the wretched creature with her bow with all her might. Luckily, Susan's bow (which was specifically crafted by the blacksmiths in Caspian's orders and at her design) had sharp curve on either ends. The hag staggered a step backward, clutching its midsection. Susan didn't waste another second drawing an arrow from her quiver and driving it to the hag's side. Then she withdrew it, fitted it to her bowstring, turned around, and shot a wolf that was about to decapitate Trumpkin.

 _Whoa_ , Susan thought, a bit lightheaded. _How did I just do that?_

Then again, her thoughts were cut short by another hag advancing towards her. Susan took a step forward, greeted the hag with a downward swipe of her bow. The sharp curve of her bow sliced the hag's face, causing it to crumple in the ground in front of her. Then she pulled an arrow from her back and shot the enemy Dwarf behind the hag.

She continued this facade for a few more seconds (or was it hours?). Her quiver only had two arrows in it now. Another hag, this time a lot smaller than the previous two were running murderously towards her. Honestly, how many hags did the Witch have on her employ? And why did they seem to have personal vendettas against her?

She punched the hag in the nose with all her might. The hag reared its head back and Susan had half a millisecond to wring her hand in paim because _damn, that hag has a hard face_ before the hag swiped its wrinkly claws at her and caught the side of her face. Susan landed to the ground, her vision swimming.

She could barely register Trumpkin's voice screaming her name somewhere on her right.

She got up before the hag could deliver a knife to her face. Then after remembering what Caspian said about how to deliver a deathly punch, she hit the hag again in the face. This time the hag lost its balance and fell on its knees in front of Susan.

"Your Majesty!" Trumpkin screamed, the bloody gash on his forehead glistening. "Go! Run! Go back to the castle!"

"No!" Susan screamed back, kicking the hag back before the creature could stand up and shot an arrow straight to its eyes.

"They're after you!" Trumpkin yelled, ducking as a large wolf leapt at him. "Save your--"

" _No_!" Susan interrupted, shooting an enemy Dwarf before it could come near her. "I'm not leaving."

Susan drew the Horn of Narnia from her satchel. And without any hesitation, she placed it between her lips, and blew.

 _Please Peter, we need help,_ she found herself praying. I _need your help._

Something hit her hard on the cheek, causing a buzzing sound in her ear. She turned around and found another hag, hands outstretched and started to hit her again. Susan ducked and grabbed a nearby sword from the sheath of a dead enemy Dwarf. Getting back up, she swung her sword on the hag's neck, turned around, then decapitating a bat-like creature that she didn't recognize.

Unfortunately, the Witch's minions didn't seem to lessen in number. Instead, they looked like they had just multiplied five times by the past ten seconds.

Susan and her Dwarf companions-- still thirteen, thank Aslan-- stood back to back in a circle as they fought for their lives.

Then, in what seemed like hours later, Susan could hear a loud whooshing sound above her... like a huge pair of wings flapping together. And they seemed to be getting nearer. In between her swings and hacks against any enemy that dared came near her, she wondered why the sound seemed familiar to her ears.

No... huge _pairs_ of wings.

A smile tugged on the corner of her cracked lips.

 _Griffins_.

Suddenly, Susan heard shouts behind her. And around her, the Witch's minions seemed to freeze in panic. After side-stepping a Dwarf and slicing a sword to its back, Susan turned around.

Susan never felt more happy in seeing Peter's face.

He looked menacing and serious as he ran towards the clearing where Susan and the dwarves stood their ground. The ever present mischievous gleam of his blue eyes was replaced with a vicious glare. He wore no armor, only a brown leathery material over his tunic, the same tunic he wore when Susan saw him that morning. With him were about thirty Narnians, the fierce expressions in their faces matched that of their King.

"Su!" Peter called.

"Pete, look out!" Susan screamed.

Peter was so bent on reaching Susan that he didn't notice a Minotaur appearing out of nowhere on his right. The creature sent its clenched, beefy fist to the side of Peter's face. He lost his balance momentarily, his vision spinning. He immediately felt a stinging sensation on his face and an ugly bruise forming. The moment he got to his bearings, he managed to side-step the Minotaur before it could punch him again then he swung his sword against the back of the creature's thighs. The Minotaur roared in pain. Peter kicked the back of its knee, sending the Minotaur on its knees. Then he drove his sword to its back, straight to its heart.

As for Susan, a leopard leapt at her out of nowhere. She jumped to the side, raising her sword. The leopard leapt at her again. She swung her sword to the leopard's stomach and it came down dead.

Out on the corner of her eye, the rest of the Witch's minions were fleeing with their lives. But she barely comprehended it. She turned around to look for Peter. She saw him kicking the Minotaur free from his sword. He met her gaze. Then, before she knew it, she was running to him, discarding her sword on the way. Whether it was because of terror or relief, she had no idea. All she knew was that she was shaking and that Peter was there and she was saved.

Peter went forward to greet her. "Su--" But he was interrupted when she collided with him, clinging to him so tight he could barely breath. The Daughter of Eve was trembling as she buried her head on his neck. He put his left arm around her-- the arms not holding his sword-- and tried his best to calm her, releasing a breath of relief he had not realized he had been holding ever since he heard the sound of Susan's horn. He fought the strong urge to cradle her head and kiss her forehead.

Susan had her arms around Peter's neck, holding on as if afraid that someone might take him away from her.

Her emotions were in a whirlwind. She convinced herself that it was just relief. Relief that she and her Dwarf companions were saved. So what if she had a strong urge to kiss Peter right then and there? She was just relieved that she didn't die. So what if she felt that tugging sensation in her stomach, the same sensation she felt the night before during that dance? She was just relieved that Peter had come to her rescue and that he didn't die in the process.

At least, that was what she was telling herself as she felt him pulling her close.

"Peter," Susan pulled away from him, before her thoughts could destroy her. She withdrew her arms from Peter's neck. "Are you alright?"

Peter met her blue eyes. "Yes, I'm fine. How--"

She ran a finger against the side of his face, staring at the bruise where the Minotaur's fist collided. "Oh, God--"

Peter held her wrist. "Su, really--"

"Your Majesties, look out!"

Peter and Susan barely had enough time to register Trumpkin's voice screaming when a whizzing sound went past beside them.

Suddenly, a jolting sensation registered on Susan's left arm and on Peter's right. Peter dropped his sword on the ground, cradling his arm while Susan clutched at hers with her right hand, both flinching in pain.

It was one of the enemy Dwarves, half-dead on the ground but somehow managed to stand up and grab a hold of a bow and arrow. He had aimed it straight to Susan's back, and if it weren't for Trumpkin's immediate action of wrestling him back to the ground before he could shoot, Susan would be dead.

But the arrow was released as Trumpkin tackled the black Dwarf to the forest floor. It went whizzing a few inches to the side of the target and scratching the arms of the Daughter of Eve and the King of Narnia, leaving two gashes on its wake.

A deep gash.

A scar on both Peter and Susan.


	24. Mending

When they got back to Cair Paravel, Susan tried very hard not to get mad at the healers who were bustling around her in her bedchambers. Sure, she felt really grateful for their care but the way that they were treating her, it was as if she was dying with that gash on her arm.

"Are you feeling alright, My Lady?" one of the healers, a lady who looked around Susan's age, asked her while applying a funny-smelling ointment on her wound.

Susan winced. She wasn't sure if it was because of the sudden jolt of pain up her arm or of the horrible smell. "I'm fine--"

"You don't feel lightheaded, do you, My Lady?" the lady continued, looking straight into Susan's blue eyes.

"No, I don't--"

"Are you hurt someplace else?"

"Really," Susan interrupted, etching a forced yet friendly smile on her face. She was starting to wonder if this was how Edmund and Lucy felt everytime she fussed over them whenever they got hurt. "I'm fine, um--" she trailed off, realizing that she didn't know the healer's name.

"Nella, Milady," the healer supplied with a smile.

"--Nella."

"Maple, a bandage please." Nella called over her shoulder. Immediately, one of the healers who had been putting the used cottons from Susan's bedside table to a little bin came over to them and gave Nella a roll of bandage. She looked like Nella's sister.

"Listen," Susan started. "Do you know where Pe-- _King_ Peter is?"

"I'm afraid not, My Lady," Nella answered, tying the bandage carefully around Susan's arm. "I haven't seen His Majesty ever since you got back to the castle.

For a few heartbeats, Susan forgot about the healers around her while she worried over Peter.

This was the second time that the King of Narnia saved her life and she was starting to hate him for always being there for her and risking his life in the process. Of course, the first time was different. It had been almost a coincidence that they were both in that clearing. But this time, he rode from Cair Paravel to that forest just to come to her rescue.

And she hadn't even the chance to thank him. After they were separated by the swarm of healers when they got back to Cair hours ago, she didn't saw him again. She didn't even know how badly he was hurt. And that cut on his arm--

 _Stupid_ , Susan thought miserably. _You're so stupid, Susan Pevensie. You should not have gone to that forest. You should have_ listened.

"King Peter," the third healer, a girl of about Lucy's age, spoke behind Susan, interrupting her train of thoughts. "Is in his bedchambers, My Lady. I saw him disappear inside with Perdian and Asher."

 _Good_. Susan shot the girl a grateful smile. "Thank you."

She had to see him.

She had to see if he was alright.

She just _had_ to.

***

"It's just a small scratch, honestly!" Peter exclaimed in exasperation as Perdian, one of the most skilled healers in Cair and Peter's friend, held up his arm to inspect the gash. "I don't see what's all the fuss is about."

"We have to clean the wound," Perdian replied calmly while dabbing the gash on Peter's arm with an ointment. "You don't want to get the wound infected, do you, Your Majesty?"

Peter grimaced at the number of ointments, cottons, bandages and a lot of other things around him he couldn't name but guessed that they were related to bandaging.

Being a King of Narnia and one who always went to wars, Peter was not a stranger to bruises and wounds. Once, when he and Caspian raided one of the Witch's minions hideouts, he got a terrible slash at his shoulders (no thanks to a Minotaur) that he almost thought he was going to be armless. Luckily, Perdian proved to be a very competent healer and managed to heal the said slash. Ever since then, he was one of Peter's closest friends.

So he knew for a fact that Peter, even though he loves to be healed, hates the healing process. Honestly, why couldn't a wound heal itself minutes after it appears?

"It's not even bothering m-- Ouch!" Peter winced. "That hurts, Perdian."

"I thought it wasn't bothering you, Your Majesty," Perdian answered while bandaging the King's arm, an amused smile fought its way to his lips.

"It wasn't until you-- OW!" Peter cried, leaning away from the red-haired healer who was dabbing the bruise on his face with a wet cloth. "That's a bruise there, Asher! Take it easy!"

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," Asher said, trying not to grin in amusement at his King.

"It's alright," Peter replied, wrinkling his nose at the smell of the ointment Perdian was still dutifully applying on his wound. "Just be gentle the next time-- and I told you that _hurts_ _,_ Perdian!"

"I see you got him under control," a voice spoke by the door.

Peter, Perdian, and Asher turned to look who the speaker was and saw Susan leaning at the doorframe, with her arms, the left one wrapped in a bandage, crossed on her chest and a small smirk on her face.

Peter suddenly felt conscious with the very thin white tunic that he was wearing.

"Su-- OW!" he glared at the red-haired healer who winced at his sudden outburst. " _Asher_."

"Forgive me _,_ Your Majesty,"

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw Susan smiling.

When he fixed his gaze on her again, she was staring at a point on his right cheek, a frown slowly making its way on her forehead. He wondered if he had dirt on his face.

 _Oh, right,_ Peter realized. _My bruise._

"It's alright, Asher," Susan spoke again, making her way to the side of Peter's bed and gently taking the cloth from Asher's hands and placed it in the bowl filled with cold water. Peter could see the red-haired healer blushing when Susan smiled at him. "I'll take care of this. And I'll do the bandaging too, Perdian."

Peter, despite feeling relieved to see Susan up and alright after a few hours of not hearing from her after they got back to Cair, silently wished for Perdian to disagree. And he felt stupid because he didn't even know why.

"Er-- as you wish, Lady Susan," Perdian bowed his head to her direction. He turned to leave, Perdian following behind him. But before they could disappear to the hallway, Perdian turned back to look at the raven-haired Daughter of Eve, a playful smile on his face. "But a word of warning, My Lady. His Majesty hates to be taken care of."

Susan laughed. "Noted, Master Perdian."

Peter rolled his eyes.


	25. Guilt

The moment Perdian and Asher left the room, Susan immediately switched her attention from the direction the two healers had gone to Peter. (Not that her attention had ever actually left Peter.) Her eyes went to the King's arm. He had a chunk of bandage covering the wound and his hand was resting over it.

Susan's stomach twisted.

"Now, let's see about that wound," she said in a playful but bossy tone, trying to control her urge to cry.

The moment she saw a glimpse of him by the door, Susan immediately wanted to break down. The sight of that bruise on his face, that wound on his arm-- she just wanted to crawl into the nearest closet, cry, and slap herself for her stupidity.

But she couldn't find it in herself to leave Peter's bedchambers. When she found herself taking the towel from Asher's hands and volunteering to do Peter's bandaging even though her knowledge in bandage was next to zero, she knew that it was the least she could after her reckless behaviour.

And also, she _wanted_ to take care of him, too. Not because he had just saved her life but because she just wanted to.

And she mentally cursed herself because she couldn't even start to explain to herself why.

She sat down beside Peter on the bed. She took hold of Peter's wrist and tried to lift it off his covered wound but he resisted.

"Su," Peter started, slightly moving his arms away from her. "I'm really--"

"Give me that ' _I'm-fine-and-it's-not-even-bothering-me'_ phrase again and I'll kill you," Susan interrupted.

She felt like a hypocrite for saying that but, at the moment, her emotions were overruling her thoughts that she didn't realize what she was saying until she had said it.

Their eyes met.

For a few moments, Susan thought Peter wouldn't give in. That he would tell her off and command her to leave the room. That he would rub it on her face that it was all her fault that he was in that condition in the first place. She knew she was being stupid for ever thinking that Peter would do it but she wasn't really thinking straight because her emotions were all in a jumble.

But then Peter thrusted his arms slightly towards her direction.

Susan removed the chunk of bandage from his wound. She took a sharp intake of breath upon the sight of the gash.

 _You did this,_ she thought.

When Peter touched her bandaged arm, Susan almost jumped out of the bed.

"Does it hurt?" he asked softly.

Susan chuckled softly, shaking off her head. "No. It stings from time to time but-- it doesn't hurt that bad now."

She reached for the roll of bandage and ointment on Peter's bedside table. She placed a bit of ointment on her finger and started to dab it gently on Peter's wound, biting her lip to stop her fingers from shaking.

When she finished, she looked up and found Peter staring at her.

Susan's stomach twisted again. But this time, it wasn't because of the guilt.

Peter broke their gaze and looked out the Narnian sky through his window. Susan cleared her throat and reached for the bandage, the horrible sensation returning in her stomach.

A wave of silence followed. Susan was now carefully bandaging Peter's wound, silently cursing her hands because it wouldn't stop shaking.

"There," Susan said a few seconds later, tying the knot of the bandage as gently and carefully as she could. "I hope I didn't cause you more pain."

She looked up at him.

And he was staring at her again.

***

Peter felt a bit disappointed upon the loss of contact with Susan's hands. He almost wanted to give a stupid remark of how the bandage was tied very poorly just to have her do it over again and to feel her fingertips against his skin again.

"No, of course not." he managed to answer, even though his jaw was locked tight with his effort not to grab her hands and hold it for the rest of the night.

And she was just so close. So close that he was almost sure she could hear his erratic heartbeats.

Susan looked away from him and reached for the towel in the bowl on his bedside table. She twisted it and started dabbing Peter's bruise, gently and slowly.

Peter found himself still staring at her, waiting for the moment when their eyes would meet again. He didn't knew why but he wanted to convey his complicated feelings for her through them. He wanted Susan to hear what his chest was screaming ever since last night. Those words that betrayed his brother.

_Caspian._

Peter felt guilty that he didn't even think about his twin brother ever since the ambush in the forest happened. For a moment, he forgot that he had a brother going to Lone Islands to settle a dispute. He was too busy feeling frightened for _everything-_ \- for _her_ \-- that his brother didn't even cross his mind for the whole afternoon.

"I'm sorry, Peter,"

Susan's voice was almost a whisper that if it weren't for their close proximity, Peter knew he wouldn't have heard her.

When she finally met his gaze, he could see her blue eyes clouding over with tears.

"I'm so so sorry--" she dropped her gaze from his face, sobbing softly. "This is all my fault--"

"Don't say that, Su," Peter caught her off. "Don't you even dare try to say that."

He tried to search for her eyes again but she had her head down, sobbing quietly that only the both of them could hear. Her every sob felt like a stab in his gut, every tear a slash much more painful than the gash in his arm.

How could she ever think that it was her fault she was ambushed in that forest. How could she possibly think that it was her fault she was almost killed by that Dwarf?

"But it is," Susan continued to sob uncontrollably, staring down at her hands and wiping tears from her cheeks. "If it wasn't for me, for my stupidity, my recklessness-- this wouldn't-- you wouldn't--"

"Hey, hey, hey," Peter placed a finger under her jaw and made her look up at him. Her red eyes and tear-stained face greeted him. He wiped the tears off her cheeks with his left hand and held her face. "Listen to me. _This_ is not your fault, okay? Don't blame yourself for what happened."

"But-- they're hurt-- Trumpkin-- you--"

"--are not blaming you for what happened," he said as sincerely as he could. "Su, we already know that this kind of thing would happen. We've been expecting this ever since we receive the prophecy about you. We already know that the Witch would go to any lengths just to have her hands on you ever since _you_ arrived. But we swore to protect you. _I_ swore to Aslan that I will do anything to protect you until you fulfill the prophecy. I know the risks, as well as Trumpkin and Nikabrik. So don't blame yourself. Do you hear me?"

For a few heartbeats, Susan didn't move. She stared back into Peter's eyes, unblinking.

Then Susan nodded.

"Okay?" Peter asked, wiping another tear from her cheek.

She nodded again.

"Thanks, Peter," she said. "For saving me again. For... _everything_."

He smiled. "I swore, right? Anything for you."

Susan smiled back gratefully, a soft chuckle erupting from her lips.

10 seconds.

20 seconds.

Peter's stomach was doing a weird somersault. His heart was pounding in his chest.

Why wasn't he letting go? Why was his hand still on her cheeks? Why wasn't he still breaking eye contact when every part of his body told him to look away?

***

30 seconds.

Susan's mind was blank. Her hand moved with its own accord and few seconds later, she found it gripping Peter's hand on her cheeks.

A few seconds ago, she had no difficulty in avoiding his gaze, afraid that the strange feeling she had felt towards him the night before during that dance might surface again. But why couldn't she do it _now_?

And why was she suddenly feeling like she was torn? Her heart was telling her that it was not just mere _happiness_ when Peter appeared on her line of vision when he came to save her a few hours ago but something more. But her mind was telling her that what she was feeling was wrong, that it was Caspian who she loved and not _him_.

***

40 seconds.

Peter found himself being drawn to her, his face moving inches closer to hers every second. She was like a magnet, pulling him in. And he was like a needle, powerless to the attraction that she was exhibiting.

***

1 minute.

Susan could now feel the warmth of Peter's breath as their lips moved closer. Her heart was racing a million miles per hour that she was afraid it would burst out of her chest.

She forced herself to think of anything else to break whatever this was that caught her under its spell but she found it hard to concentrate. She couldn't think about anything else. Not her siblings, not the prophecy, not Caspian... just _him_.

Peter broke his gaze from hers. It traveled to her nose. Then to her lips.

Susan closed her eyes.

Then the doors suddenly burst open.


	26. Realizations

It was Edmund.

When he'd found out from Peter that Susan had left that morning with Trumpkin and twelve other dwarves for Lantern Waste to hunt, Edmund was angered. Although he believed in his elder sister (he knew she was no longer that screaming, frightened young lady Peter had saved from a Minotaur) and knew that she wouldn't have rushed headfirst to a decision without first thinking about it hard, he still worried. Didn't she know that there was a certain Witch out there bent on killing her?

When Edmund had heard a piercing sound ringing in the air from the direction of the forest, he had immediately ran to the griffin's nest situated on the tallest tower in the west side of Cair Paravel. Peter was already there and was already sending griffins towards Lantern Waste with two Narnians each, one in each talons.

_"Stay here,"_ Peter had said, without even glancing towards his direction as he mounted the last remaining griffin in the tower.

_"But Susan's--"_

_"I said, stay here!"_ When he had glared at him, Edmund noticed his face had turned pale and his sky blue eyes looked almost grey in the afternoon light.

Edmund had waited until midnight. He had already tucked a reluctant Lucy to sleep hours earlier. But not him. He had consumed twelve cups of tea to stay awake. When two griffins returned, bearing Susan and Peter, Edmund immediately went to his sister's side. She was wounded. He got separated from her, however, when her nurses brought her to her bedchamber to treat her. They had convinced him she would be alright and that her wound wasn't fatal but they had prevented him from seeing her until she'd had her rest. He had tried twice to get into her bedchamber but the sentries outside her doors were firm (honestly, those two centaurs were a tad too obedient than the centaurs outside _his_ doors.)

So, much was Edmund's surprise when he saw her in Peter's bedchambers. The son of Adam halted by the King's doors.

The both of them looked red in the face and a bit on edge. Susan was sitting by the foot of the bed, cradling her wounded arm. Peter was sitting with his back against the headboard, holding a cloth against his cheek. Water was dripping from the cloth to his bandaged arm, like he hastily pressed it to his face without squeezing out the water first. The blonde-haired King, Edmund thought, looked every bit as bruised and battered as Susan.

"Edmund," Susan's voice was high. "It's past midnight. You're supposed to be in bed."

" _You're_ supposed to be in bed," Edmund countered, his eyes glaring at his sister. He resisted the urge to cross his arms against his chest. "What are you doing here?"

Susan fidgeted, gesturing to Peter with her unbandaged arm. "I was just checking on Peter. I was about to leave, actually, before you came."

She stood up rather hastily from her sitting position then turned to Peter. "I--" her voice trailed off. But then, she turned away, heading towards the doors and Edmund. He took hold of her arm before she could get past him.

"Hey," Edmund said softly to her. "Are you okay?"

Susan's eyes looked dazed and unfocused as she stared back at him. "I'm fine, brother."

"It's just..." Edmund scanned his elder sister's face. He took note of the various scrapes on her forehead and cheeks and the tear on her lower lip. Earlier, when he was waiting for her return, he was panicking. If it weren't for Lucy keeping him company, he knew he would have broken down. He may not make it obvious most of the time but he cares so much for Susan. Even if she was constantly driving him crazy.

Susan seemed to read his thoughts. Her eyes glinted. "Edmund Pevensie," her voice was teasing. She leaned in closer as if scrutinizing his face. "Are you worried about me?"

Edmund couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Of course I am, old Mum."

Susan smiled softly at him, causing a smile of his own to tug on the corners of his lips. He leaned his forehead against hers, his dark eyes fixed on her hazel blue orbs.

"Now," Edmund said, leaning away from Susan to look her properly in the eye again."I'm taking you to your bedchambers. And you, _Your Majesty_ ," he turned his attention to Peter. He had never spoken to the King like this before. But after stopping him from coming to his own sister's rescue, Edmund liked to think Peter had it coming. "I will be back. I want to know _everything_ that happened. I figured you won't get some sleep tonight, anyway."

***

_Oh, Ed, you have no idea._

Peter dropped the cloth he had hastily slapped to his cheek the second Edmund bursted inside his bedchambers. He felt so frustrated at himself that he resisted the urge to grab the bowl of water nearby and dump its contents down his head.

_What the_ bloody hell _had he done?_

Susan's expression had been unreadable when she took her leave of him but Peter was sure she was mad at him. Why shouldn't she? He completely took advantage of her vulnerability. He completely assumed that that hug and those looks she had given him earlier meant something else. He completely stepped over the line. He _completely_ ignored the fact that she already belonged to someone else. To his own _brother_.

_But does she, though?_ The selfish part of his brain whispered to him.

Peter shut his eyes tight, drowning out the words to the back of his head.

_No_ , he thought forcefully. This annoying... _feeling_ towards Susan Pevensie in his chest was nothing more than just a result of a concussion courtesy of that Minotaur. He didn't know what the feeling was exactly but he knew that he would _never_ do _that_ to Caspian.

But he also knew, without a doubt, that if Edmund hadn't come, he would certainly have kissed Susan Pevensie.

Peter pressed a pillow hard against his face.

***

After Edmund walked her to her bedchambers and after she promised him that she won't go wander off this time, Susan went straight to her wash room and dunk her head in a bowl of cold water. She knew it might not be helpful for the various recently ointment-applied scratches and scrapes on her face but she didn't care. After drying her face, she plopped herself down on her bed, cradling her wounded arm and staring up at her ceiling, trying to lower down her racing heartbeat.

Trying not to think of his eyes and his face.

Trying to forget of wanting to kiss him.

Trying to push away the strange and _terrifying_ feeling in her chest.

The strange and terrifying feeling that she was _not supposed to be feeling._

_No_ , she thought, shutting her eyes so tight that she could see stars. _No, no, no, no._ _No_.

She thought of Caspian. She silently prayed for him to come home. She needs him. She needs his presence. She needs to look at him, to be with him so she could make sense of the chaos erupting in her gut because of his bloody _twin brother._

_You're falling for Peter_.

Because she was terrified. Because somehow, in the midst of all the childish fights and high velocity books in the library, her feelings betrayed her.

_You're accidentally falling for Peter._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Susan and Edmund were always my favorite Pevensie duo, both being the voice of reason in the family. I also like that they were both flawed - more flawed than their siblings - and that they somehow overcame those flaws throughout the books. (The fact that Susan lacked belief in Narnia at the end despite spending 15 years there is beyond me; this may be the only thing C.S. Lewis didn't expound thoroughly.)
> 
> I'm a little disappointed that Su and Ed didn't have much brother-and-sister moments in the movies (especially in PC) so this book will serve as a personal compensation.


	27. Changes

After the attempt on Susan Pevensie's life that morning when she first got to Narnia, Caspian and Peter stationed lookouts around the country's borders. And ever since then, the sentries usually find themselves fending their lives (and the borders) against the Witch's minions who seek to enter the country. These attempts happen almost everyday that the centaurs wouldn't even blink in surprise if screaming hags suddenly leap out of nowhere and interrupt their lunch.

But now, one month after that ambush in Lantern Waste, the activities around Narnia's borders went quiet. The Witch, it looked like, finally gave up after all her unsuccessful tries to get through the borders after that afternoon.

The Narnians felt relieved with this news. Mr. Tumnus, whose house was situated near the borders on Lantern Waste, immediately decided to return home. He had been staying in Cair for almost a month now, after King Peter asked him to be the Pevensies' tutor. And now that the siblings' education on theoritical knowledge is coming to its end, the faun wanted to see his house again. He could only wish that the Witch's minions didn't got bored while waiting for the dwarves and ravaged his home that afternoon, a month ago.

But Peter thought otherwise. The Magnificent King felt uneasy with the sudden halt of the attempts of Jadis to get inside his country. It wasn't her to just give up. And he knew firsthand how clever she is.

Peter decided to station more sentries around the borders.

It had also been a month since the Pevensies arrived in Narnia. And whether it was because of the magical Narnian air or the fact that Narnian time travels faster than their time, many things had changed with the three siblings.

Lucy was now having shoulder-length sandy brown hair, as opposed to her ear-length one when they first came to Narnia, and a couple of inches taller. The youngest Pevensie had also gain weight, which Susan felt grateful for because the girl was always so skinny back in England.

She had also grown very close to Trumpkin, the Dwarf. She took the liking of calling him D.L.F. (Dear Little Friend) which sometimes made the Dwarf tick. She also had grown accustomed with carrying the dagger that Peter had given her anywhere she go.

Edmund had grown into a rather dashing young man. Somehow, his always messy dark hair made him attractive to the dryads and the other occupants of Cair (which always made Lucy roll her eyes everytime Edmund pointed this out.) And he was now as tall as Susan, which the eldest Pevensie find the most disturbing. How could her thirteen year old younger brother be as tall as her?

Edmund was now very good in swordfighting. He now hack and swing his sword like a pro. Even General Oreius of the Narnian army found himself being disarmed and down on one knee when he engaged with a fencing match against the Pevensie boy. Peter, who had become Edmund's mentor in both fencing and battle strategy, couldn't help but beam with pride everytime he watched Edmund prevail in every single one of his matches against his officers. Of course, Edmund still couldn't beat him but he knew it was only a matter of time before he'd find himself looking up at the tip of Edmund's sword.

As for Susan Pevensie, she felt completely changed. She was more careful now, more vigilant, even though she was inside Cair's many walls. She often felt restless when she was not in the field and holding her bow. It was as if her whole body is tingling and yearning for her to shoot things. It seemed like the ambush didn't only scar her in the outside forever, but it also _scarred_ her forever.

Her raven hair, previously shoulder-length when she first stumbled through the wardrobe to Narnia, now almost reached her waist. Often times, she'd braid it and curl it against the back of her head, especially when she'd go out and practice archery. But sometimes, she'd simply wear it down, making the courtiers and the occupants of Cair gush at her.

The Pevensie siblings looked more and more like royalties and less like English school children every day. And neither of them thought about going back to their lives on the other side of the wardrobe anymore. The memory of their life in England seemed to slowly slip through their fingers every day they are in Narnia. There were times when they forget bits and pieces and the harder they try to grasp the memories, the quicker they slip away. Like they were recalling a dream.

But it didn't matter to the three Pevensies. Narnia was their home now. _She_ was their destiny. And whether they'd remember their life before in the other world or not, they were not leaving her.

There was no doubt in their minds about that.

***

"Mr. Tumnus," Peter said. "I'm afraid I can't let you go back to Lantern Waste just yet. I know you want to go home but the Witch..." he trailed off, taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the painful pounding between his eyes. "I refuse to believe that she stopped attacking the borders simply because she's giving up. She's planning something." He leaned on his knuckles against the round table.

Mr. Tumnus, on Peter's right side, nodded his assent. He wanted more than anything to return home but Peter knew the Witch more than anyone (except maybe Caspian). If he says that anything was out of the ordinary with the Witch's actions, Mr. Tumnus knew he'd better listen.

The faun caught Oreuis' dark eyes, who was on Peter's other side.

Edmund and Susan was also present in the council room. Edmund was on Oreuis' other side, his sword dangling on his hip, and watching Peter. He had been listening to the blonde-haired King's words intently. Susan was by the glass window on the opposite end of the council room, gazing out to the glistening sea. Her ears were trained on the small gathering behind her but her eyes were fixed on the horizon.

"Were the additional guards sent to the borders?" Peter asked Oreius.

"This morning as you ordered, Your Majesty," Oreuis responded.

"Good." Peter said then went silent for a few heartbeats.

Susan turned her attention from the horizon to Peter. Her hazel blue eyes rove over the Magnificent King.

He looked exhausted and drained. And he looked as if he lost weight in Susan's eyes.

For the past few weeks, Peter had been like that. The others noticed it too but not the way how Susan did. Even though she had been maintaining distance from the King after what almost happened in his bedchambers a month ago, she found herself noticing every single thing about Peter ever since that night. It was like, all so suddenly, she is very _aware_ of him. She could see his bloodshot sky blue eyes, his sunken cheeks, his thinning stature...

Susan knew all these kingly duties must have been draining for Peter. After all, he was used to sharing these responsibilities with Caspian. Yet now, with the threat of the looming return of the White Witch, he was alone. She knew how difficult it was. She felt the same way when her parents died and she was left with her younger siblings at the age of ten.

"Mr. Tumnus," Peter spoke. "Can you head to the eagles' nest in the east tower and tell Gwinthor and his kin to circle the borders and have a survey with the nearby lands? And have your nature spirits be in constant vigilance. I don't want the Narnians caught in surprise, as what happened in Lantern Waste." He briefly touched the scar in his right arm over the long sleeve of his shirt.

"Certainly, Your Majesty," Mr. Tumnus. Susan knew that if Peter wasn't on the verge of collapse in exhaustion, he would have told the faun off with calling him that.

"That would be all," the King said.

When Oreuis and Mr. Tumnus left the council room, Edmund gave Peter a worried look. "Will I still see you in the courtyard this afternoon, Pete? Because if you can't go--"

"I will be there, Ed." Peter gave the Pevensie boy a smile. "I'm fine."

Susan couldn't resist rolling her eyes.

"Okay," Edmund replied but his dark eyes were still worried. At a glance and a nod from his sister, he left.

Immediately, Peter collapsed on the high-backed cushion chair beside him with a groan. He laid his head back and closed his eyes.

Susan left her post by the window and crossed the length of the room to Peter's side. "Peter, are you alright?" She placed a hand on his forehead and found his temperature normal. Thankfully.

"I'm alright," Peter said, but his voice proved otherwise. "Don't make a lot of fuss about it, Su."

"You certainly don't look alright."

"I'm fine, really--"

Susan tapped his cheek lightly. "You know I hate that phrase, Your Majesty."

With a sigh, Peter opened his eyes and found a pair of hazel blue ones looking back at him.

Even though he wouldn't admit and certainly not to this certain raven-haired Pevensie, Peter felt horrible. He felt like his body wanted to collapse then and there and pass out for a week. He felt weary and fatigued. When Caspian left to Lone Islands more than a month ago, Peter had no idea it would be this hard to run a country alone.

 _Nope_ , he thought. He was certainly _not_ feeling fine.

"You need a break, Your Worshipfulness," Susan said. "You need to go out and breathe some fresh air."

At Susan's colorful name for him, a small smile tugged at the corner of Peter's lips. Nevertheless, he gave her a sturdy look. "I told you--"

"You need a break," she said firmly, returning his sturdy stare.

Even after a month of knowing Susan Pevensie, Peter still couldn't get over the fact that she was really stubborn.

The blonde-haired King sighed in resignation, shutting his eyes close. He knew that if he'd persist, the daughter of Eve won't leave the matter alone. And besides, he was tired. He couldn't afford to argue with Susan Pevensie.

Peter looked up at her hazel blue eyes once again. "What do you have in mind?"


	28. Talks

Lucy was getting a little frustrated with each passing second. Her feet hurt and her knees wanted to buckle beneath her for wandering the whole of Cair Paravel, trying to find her sister.

Lucy knew Susan and Edmund were summoned to a meeting in the council room by Peter but it had long been adjourned now; Lucy already saw Edmund in the kitchen hours ago. She went to the council room but she wasn't there. She had gone to the library three times, thinking her elder sister might have just been hiding behind five piles of books she was reading. When she went to the garden, thinking Susan might have just been helping with the fauns tending the white roses she had come to adore, she wasn't there. Her bedchambers were empty, too.

The day before she had promised Lucy that today they'd ride to Beruna, Narnia's chief village. It was only a few hours ride from Cair Paravel and Lucy had always wanted to go there. She loved Cair Paravel but after a month with nothing to do but to wander around the castle, she wanted a change of scenery. Susan, being Susan, didn't want her to go alone and decided to go with her.

 _So now_ , Lucy thought, _where is she?_

Lucy decided to look for her brother. The both of them had attended the council meeting. Maybe he knew where Susan was.

Lucy headed to the courtyard, perfectly sure that her brother was there. Aside from his bedchambers which was recently given to him (which Lucy felt absolutely grateful for because she didn't know how much more she could of take her brother's snores) it was his favorite place in Cair. Lucy doubted Edmund had explored the whole castle considering he spend almost all his waking hours there.

As Lucy made her way to the courtyard, palace courtiers and staff alike bowed to her as she passed them which both flattered her and made her uncomfortable. She was just a twelve-year-old girl! Despite the fact that she felt more mature than what her true age entails, she was barely a young lady. Courtiers and servants bowing to her and calling her titles felt... weird.

When she got to the courtyard, she found Edmund doing swordfighting exercises by himself. He was almost by the sharp curved-edge, a few yards from the oaken front doors of the castle, overlooking the sea below. Lucy heaved a sigh and jogged towards him.

"Lucy," Edmund stopped his actions as he saw his sister running towards him. "Come to wait for sunset out here, are you? Just don't get too close to me or you'll be decapitated." He hefted his sword.

"Actually," Lucy took two deep breaths. "I'm looking for Susan. We're supposed to have gone to Beruna _three hours ago_ but she has disappeared." She looked at her brother. "Have you seen her?"

"No," Edmund shook his head. "Have you checked the council room? I left her there with Peter when our meeting adjourned."

"She's not there."

"Maybe she's off practicing archery in her _'secret place.'_ Wherever that is."

"Well, then..." Lucy slid to the ground against the waist-high marble parapet of the courtyard. "...she could have left a message instead of letting me wander around Cair for almost the whole afternoon." She took off her laced sandals and massaged her feet.

"Shouldn't have done that." Edmund nodded at her position on the ground. "Freesia will be absolutely mad if she'd knew what you've done to your new dress."

"Oh, whatever." Lucy grumbled in reply, continuously pressing her fingers against her toes. "My feet hurt and Freesia could starve me for a week for all I care."

Edmund chuckled at her response, then proceeded to twirl his sword slowly, continuing his exercise.

Lucy watched her brother for a few minutes. She had already heard how her brother had made remarkable progress in fencing but she hadn't yet witnessed him in action. And now that she had, she couldn't help but feel impressed.

It almost felt like Edmund was meant to be a swordfighter. Back in England, he was continuously telling her how everytime he'd hold a sword in P.E. class at school he always felt... himself. Like, somehow, the feel of a sword in his hands calms him. Lucy had no idea what he was talking about then but now, looking at Edmund in his brown pants, black boots, white tunic, and the way he moves so gracefully while doing those fencing exercises... she understood.

"Edmund," Lucy spoke. "Do you ever regret leaving our world?"

Edmund fixed his gaze on his younger sister, the point of his sword dipping to the ground beside him as he lose his stance. "You know I don't, Lu."

"I know. It's just..." she hesitated. "Back there, we're different. I no longer remember much of it but I knew that we were not these people we are now. You were not this..." she motioned at Edmund's sword. "...skilled swordfighter you are now. We were innocent, mere children." She stopped.

"Lu?" Edmund asked, his voice tinged with worry and confusion. "What is it?"

"Nothing, really. It's just... if we hadn't left, if I hadn't showed you the wardrobe, we would never have been _this_ , Susan would never have been in that ambush because of a prophecy, you..." she smiled slightly up at him. "You would never have taken it for yourself to be her protector. That's why you keep practicing, right?"

"Lu," Edmund sat down on the ground beside her. "I would _always_ take it upon myself to protect the two of you. And, besides, there's nothing for us back there anymore. At least, for _me_." He tried to come up with things worth staying for in England but he came up blank, his recollections coming short. It was as if his memories were becoming blurry.

"Having trouble remembering?" Lucy asked.

Edmund nodded. "The more I try to remember, the more they slip away."

"Our parents?"

"Not a chance."

Lucy smiled.

The two Pevensies stayed quiet for a few heartbeats. They listened to the sounds of seagulls cawing and the waves lapping by the shore below.

"Say," Lucy said, looking back to the double oak front doors of the castle. "Where is Peter? Shouldn't he be here having these swordfighting exercises with you?"

Edmund shook his head. "He didn't come. Maybe he's resting. Running the whole kingdom alone has really taken a toll on him."

"I know," Lucy replied. "He always looked tired nowadays." Then a thought came into her mind. Her brown eyes widened. "Or maybe..."

Edmund raised an eyebrow at her expression. "What?"

"Maybe Susan and Peter went somewhere together."

"Well," Edmund paused to think. "The last time I saw both of them was in the council room. Maybe Susan had convinced him to go to his nurses to ask for a nerve tonic and tuck him into sleep. You know how she likes to go all Mum on--"

"No, I mean..." she trailed off, wondering how to say the things on her mind without sounding ridiculous. " _Together_."

"What are you on about?"

"Oh, keep up, Ed!"

Edmund stared at his sister, forehead scrunched in confusion. When Lucy didn't elaborate, only fixing him with her _come-on-get-to-it-already_ look for the next ten seconds, it dawned on him.

"Don't be ridiculous," he snorted, getting up to his feet and hefting his sword, ready to resume his fencing exercises. "They're Peter and Susan. They'd sooner strangle each other than be somewhere together--"

"Not these past few weeks, they don't." Lucy argued. "They've changed ever since the ambush."

"Maybe they made a truce, finally realizing that all their bickering are driving us crazy. Besides, Peter has saved Su from certain death _twice_ now. If that isn't an act of peace then I don't know what is."

"There is a thin line between love and hate, brother dear." Lucy crossed her arms.

Edmund rolled his eyes then shook his head. He couldn't believe that he was having this conversation with his little sister. She knew more than anyone (except perhaps Susan) that he wasn't fond of involving himself with her sisters'... _talks_. Not that they talk a lot about their opposite gender; Lucy was just a little girl, her head always in those fairytales and hide-and-seek games, and Susan always had her nose buried in books.

Lucy, however, couldn't shake off the thought that, possibly, there were more about her elder sister and the King of Narnia than meets the eye. For the past month, they had changed. They were more friendly and civil to each other, no longer staring daggers at each other across the dining table. One time, Peter had actually looked at Susan for more than five seconds without rolling his eyes.

And Lucy had this nagging feeling that it was _more_ than that. Because, she had also noticed Susan looked at Peter in a way that was, somehow... _different_. And the way how she was almost skittish around the King...

"Maybe you're right," Lucy said to Edmund. "After all, there's Caspian."

"Why are we talking about this again?" Edmund asked in response, tilting his head at Lucy's direction, his swordtip dipping towards the ground again. "You're _twelve_ , for heaven's sake! This is not the sort of talk for you."

Lucy snorted, rolling her eyes.

"Or for me." Edmund wrinkled his nose, turning his back on his younger sister and continued with his fencing exercises.


	29. Distractions

"I really don't understand why you're excellent in swordfighting but hopeless at _this_ , Peter." Susan threw her hands up in the air as she looked in disbelief at another arrow flying fifteen feet away from the dummy yet again.

They had been at it for a while now but the blonde-haired King really couldn't seem to hit the dummy. Nor at least, not let his arrow fly at fifteen feet away from the said dummy.

"It's simple really," Peter mumbled in annoyance. Although Susan was far behind him, he knew that she could hear him but he didn't care. "I love swordfighting. I hate _this_."

Peter didn't want to hurt the Daughter of Eve's feelings. She had brought him here to help him get away from his troubles. And he knew that archery was her area of expertise and that she felt strong passion towards it as he felt with fencing. But he couldn't help his irritation. He had been trying hard to hit that target for almost two hours now but to no avail. The stupid arrows wouldn't work with him. He was, and she was right, devastatingly _hopeless_.

And Susan was of no help at all. She kept criticizing his stance and laugh at the way how he hold the arrow on the bowstring. True, she had already showed him the proper way to these things. But could she blame him if he was more focus on _her_ than on how to hold an arrow on the bowstring properly?

The thought made Peter even more annoyed.

He wondered what Edmund was doing now. The black-haired Pevensie was probably mad at him now after he promised to meet him at the courtyard but never showed. He could only hope Edmund would forgive him once he'd find out that he was only here at the behest of his own sister. After all, he knew firsthand how stubborn and annoying Susan Pevensie is.

Peter and Susan were in a vast field outside of Cair Paravel. Wild grasses that almost reached their knees surrounded them. Up ahead, the sun was almost on its way down to the west, drenching them in a warm light. Cair's huge turrets towered were on their right and the vast forest spread out on their left.

The place was truly relaxing, Peter had to admit that. Now he understood why Susan seemed to love to practice archery there. The sounds of the rustling blades of grass around them and the lapping waves down by the shore on the other side of Cair seemed to chase away all the exhaustions inside him.

Peter heard an arrow whizzing past on his right. Half a heartbeat later, a red-feathered arrow was embedded on the dummy's forehead yards away.

Peter looked behind him. Susan stood there calmly, her bow on her hand, her eyebrows raised at him as if telling him _See? That's how it's done!_ He rolled his eyes at her. "Show off," he said.

"Oh, please," Susan snorted, settling down on the ground and tucking her legs beneath her. She placed her bow gently beside her. "Even a baby could hit that dummy in the forehead."

"Well, I'm sorry if I'm not some certain raven-haired lady out who is apparently the greatest archer Narnia has ever seen."

Susan went red at that.

Ever since that ambush in Lantern Waste a month ago, Susan had been called the _"the greatest archer Narnia has ever seen"_ which she thought was crazy, ridiculous, and a huge overstatement since all she ever did was swing her bow around and shoot her arrows at any enemy she could her eyes on and hope she wouldn't miss. She knew it was because of her thirteen Dwarf companions that day and the Narnian army who came to their rescue. They were constantly praising her afterwards about how well she fought in the forest, how they had never seen anyone fight with a bow like that before, and thought it fit that the whole country knows of her _heroinism_. It took all of her willpower not to burrow her head on the beach the next day when she couldn't even walk ten feet around the Great Hall without hearing whispers from the courtiers about her bravery. Edmund couldn't stop making fun of her after that.

Peter, who would give everything just to have his fingers around his sword Rhindon, dislodged one of the arrows embedded on the ground, fitted it to his bowstring, took aim at the dummy, and released.

The black-feathered arrow sailed an inch away from the dummy's face.

"Not bad," Susan complimented from her sitting position behind Peter.

"Thank you," Peter replied with no emotion although his gaze was still frozen on where his arrow had flown. He had actually managed _not_ to shoot his arrow fifteen feet away from the dummy. But he was not enjoying the activity so much so it was hard for him to smile proudly. And the fact that he could feel Susan's gaze fixed on his back was _not_ helping matters.

Why was he still there when all he ever wanted was to decapitate dummies in the castle's battlement? Peter had no idea. Maybe he just wanted to go out and feel some fresh air on his cheeks. Maybe he didn't want to go back inside Cair because it would only remind him that he was alone in his kingly duties. Maybe he just wanted to spend time with Susan without being looked at by the castle's courtiers.

 _Whoa, there!_ about three-fourths of his brain screamed loudly inside his brain. _Where did_ that _come from?_

 _Shut up!_ the remaining part of his brain screamed back.

Yep, Peter thought. He was _definitely_ going crazy.

To shake off his crazy thoughts, he fitted another arrow on his bowstring again and took aim at the dummy, stretching the bowstring to his cheeks. He was about to relax his breathing just as what had Susan told him to do when he felt goosebumps up his arms.

Peter hadn't heard her getting up from the ground behind her. Now, she was standing close behind him. He felt his body going rigid when she made contact with him. She was _very_ close that if he'd turn his head to her direction, their noses would touch.

Suddenly, he found it difficult to breathe. It was as if the surroundings were closing in around him, squeezing his figure, preventing his lungs from working.

Susan, heartbeat racing involuntarily, put her face close to the back of Peter's neck then took a hold of his left arm, which was holding the bow steadily in front of him, and lifted it slightly. She gripped his right elbow gently and lowered it by an inch. Then she ran her hand to his right shoulder and pressed it down slightly to level it with his elbow.

"Keep your eyes on the target," she said softly, his ears only inches from her lips. She forced her voice not to squeak. She steadied her breathing so as not to make it obvious that she was slightly hyperventilating. Though why she wasn't pulling away from the contact, she didn't have the slightest idea. "Breathe. Concentrate."

Feeling her warm breath tickling his neck, Peter found it _impossible_ to concentrate. His hand shook that he almost let go of the bowstring. His gaze flitted to the side briefly to get a glimpse of her face.

"And release."

Peter let the arrow fly. It embedded itself on the dummy's forehead.

"See?" Susan asked, smiling slightly. She took a step back from Peter, smoothed the back of her dress before sitting down on the ground. She settled her heartbeat. "You can do it."

Peter stared at the dummy absentmindedly. Now that she was no longer breathing up his neck, he could now calm his tangled and fired up nerves. He inhaled and exhaled through his nose, breathing in all the oxygen he could so that his screaming brain would calm down.

Once his heartbeat mellowed from a hundred miles per hour down to normal, Peter sat down on the ground across from Susan. He avoided looking at her by making a show of plucking arrows from the ground and laying it on the ground with his bow.

They didn't speak for a while. Susan closed her eyes briefly to focus on the sound of the lapping waves down by the shore. Peter let his eyes rove around the field. A few seconds later, all of his responsibilities and diplomatic plans came crowding back in his head.

 _Blast_ _these kingly duties_ , he mentally groaned.

It was only a month since Caspian left for Lone Islands but Peter already felt like he had been alone for a year. His eyeballs throbbed for the lack of sleep. He had been avoiding to look at himself in the mirror because he knew the sight of his eyebags would just frighten him. His body was constantly exhausted even though he only spend almost three hours a day with Edmund's swordfighting lessons. Not that swordfighting ever made him _that_ exhausted.

Susan glanced over at him and noticed the frown on his features. She sighed. She brought him out of here to forget about his duties for a while but it seemed to do no good.

"You're thinking about it again, aren't you?" she asked.

Peter looked at her. Her blue eyes lost the excited sparkle it possessed a few minutes ago. He couldn't help but feel guilty. Here she was trying her best to help him cheer up and he was acting like a wet blanket. He kept complaining about archery when, truthfully, it had been effective in taking his mind off things. While it lasted.

"I couldn't help it," he answered, looking away from her gaze. "It keeps coming back all the time."

Susan didn't respond. She looked down at her palms, thinking about other things that might help Peter forget his worries all the time. Of course, there were always her methods she used Lucy and (sometimes) Edmund when they worried on their school works back at England but she knew, without a doubt, that Peter wouldn't like it.

"Thank you, Su," Peter said. When she looked up and met his gaze, he smiled at her. "I really needed this."

Susan was momentarily stunned at seeing Peter's genuine smile. She realized the King hadn't smiled at her like that for, like, _ever_. It was always mischievous grins and sarcastic smirks. It was never grateful or genuine.

And she had to admit, his smile was... _beautiful_.

"You're welcome," she returned his smile.

Peter looked away from her again but her gaze stayed on his face.

"Look, Peter," she reached out and smoothed his forehead with her fingers. A million warning signs went up in her head at her sudden action but she ignored them. "Stop worrying, okay? I know you can handle it. It's all going to be alright in the end. Just--" she trailed off."--just don't hesitate to ask for help."

The King didn't reply. He only held Susan's gaze. He was taken aback at the care and compassion in her eyes.

Now Peter could clearly see why the Narnians called her Susan the _Gentle_.

"We're here for you, Pete," Susan continued, her voice soft.

For the next few heartbeats, neither of them said a word. They stayed in a comfortable silence, their gazes locked.

Suddenly, a mischievous twinkle ignited in Susan's blue eyes. Before Peter could react, the Daughter of Eve launched herself at him and tackled him to the ground.


	30. Yielding

For a millisecond, Peter was shocked and confused at what Susan was doing. Taking advantage of this, the Daughter of Eve straddled his waist and tickled him hard.

Peter lay beneath her, breathless from laughter. He tried to move his hand to stop the Daughter of Eve from what she was doing, but he felt powerless. He could only laugh uncontrollably while her fingers poke at his sides.

Laughing very hard, Susan tried to hold her position above Peter as he squirmed underneath her. But then, a lock of her raven hair fell in front of her face. When she reached up to tuck it behind her ear, Peter surged up and flipped her to her back. She now lay beneath him, panting but laughing.

"I win, Su," Peter smiled widely, his dimples showing. "Do you yield?"

Mentally cursing why she didn't think of tying her hair back, Susan looked up at him, eyebrows raised defiantly. "Oh, really?" she asked mockingly. Then, with all her strength, she pushed back at him.

They rolled on the field, laughing very loudly. A horn could have sounded from Cair Paravel and neither of them would have heard it. The both of them seemed to have forgotten everything else as they played like children on the ground, the wild grasses parting for them as they rolled around.

Susan, breathing heavily with all the exertion of strength and laughing, was now on top of Peter again. She held her position firm so as not to let him roll her again.

"Look at that!" she said in a mockingly soothing tone. "King Peter the Magnificent, the best swordfighter Narnia has ever seen, beaten by a _girl_."

"Oh, really?" Peter mimicked her, smirking. Then he started to tickle her hard. Susan squirmed above him, giggling uncontrollably, as he poked at her sides mercilessly.

"Peter!" she exclaimed, breathless from laughter. "Stop!"

"I will," he countered. "If you yield."

"I said, _stop it!_ " she reached out and grab both of his wrist, pinning them down on either side of his head.

Susan's face froze as it hovered inches away from Peter's.

Their gazes locked, blue on blue. They both panted from their activity, faces so close that they were washing each other's faces with their warm breaths.

Peter's heart pounded rapidly in his chest that he knew Susan could feel it through their layers of clothes. Although, he was sure that his racing pulse had already given him away. Her pale, beautiful face was so close that his brain was short-circuiting in his head, unable to think straight. And her lips...

Peter found it useless to deny it to himself anymore. Ever since that dance when he first found himself drowning and lost in her blue eyes, he had been trying hard to keep away the feelings that were slowly taking hold of him. And the night after, that night in his bedchambers when she tended his wounds and he discovered the vulnerability beneath her tough demeanor, he had convinced himself _hard_ that it was the horrid smell of the ointments which muddled his brain that he almost kissed her. Because it was _impossible_ for him to fall for her. He _shouldn't_ fall for her. He tried _not_ to fall for her.

_He should have tried hard enough._

Because now, looking up into her blue eyes, Peter knew he was already helpless. He realized she would do anything for her. He'd travel to the very end of the world to save her. He'd give up his crown if it meant keeping her safe.

If the foreign sensation that was now blooming strongly in his chest as he was sucked into a hurricane that was her eyes was _love_... then so be it. He loved her. He _loved_ Susan Pevensie.

Susan wrestled with herself as she found herself drowning in his gaze. It felt like the million warning signs flashing in her head exploded altogether, making her brain numb and useless. This close to him, she felt voltages of electricity running through her body, charging her very being. She felt like her sanity was tearing in half.

She loved Caspian. He was the first person that made her feel different. He made her feel like she was beautiful and that she was capable of being romantically involve with someone without her head exploding. Back in England, she was far from that. She had to rein in her logical tendencies just to have social interaction with anyone. But Caspian... he gave her this inexplicable feeling that made her feel confident and... different, but in a good way. And she loved him for that. _She loved him._

But Peter it was... _inexplainable_. It was unexpected. Everytime she looked at him, an inexplicable fierce passion take hold of her, much like that feeling she got when Peter bounded in Lantern Waste to her rescue and she wanted very much to kiss him... but so much more. She had tried to convince herself that it was nothing more than relief and adrenaline at being saved from certain death but right now, at this moment, with her face only inches from his that she could see freckles that she hadn't notice before, she knew she was already way, _way_ in deep.

Was it possible to be in love with two people at the same time? She knew she was bound to know who she loved more. And she knew that, deep down, she already knew. But at that moment, she also knew that what she felt for Peter was different than what she felt for Caspian. Maybe it was because of that punch the Minotaur gave him that made her realize he wasn't just this annoying blonde-haired King who she hated from the first moment she saw him. He was more than that. _Much_ more than that.

And she also knew it would be her ruin because it would never _ever_ happen between them. Because... _Caspian_.

All these time, Susan was holding Peter's slim wrist. She was gripping them tight unknowingly, as if restraining him. But he was unmoving beneath her. He lay still on his back, looking up at her, unblinking. When a dose of sanity returned in her brain and she forced her gaze away from his, Susan realized this. She let go of his wrist. Both of his wrist were slightly red from her tight grip.

"Oh, Peter," her voice broke a little as if she was about to cry. "I'm so sorry." She lifted his wrists and pulled it gently towards her, massaging them. When her fingers moved up the sleeves of his white tunic, she saw the scar on his right arm. The scar that matched hers. The scar he got when he saved her. Her chest clenched even more.

Eyebrows scrunched in confusion, the King casted his eyes on her hands stroking his wrist. "Wha--"

"You idiot," she interrupted, her voice raised but still choked. "Why didn't you tell me I was hurting you?"

The feel of her soft, warm hands pressing against his wrist was the most comforting feeling Peter had for the past few weeks. He resisted the urge to close his eyes. He tried not to let his pulse rate rise even more than what it was right then. But she was still looking like she was about to cry.

Then he realized what she was saying.

"Oh no," He managed to laugh even if he felt like he was hyperventilating. "I'm fine."

"You do know that I will never ever try to hurt you, right?" she continued as if she didn't hear him. She avoided his gaze. Her fingers kept squeezing his wrist softly and gently. She didn't know why she was suddenly in tears. If it was because she had hurt him or the knowledge that she loved him, she had no idea. "I didn't mean--"

"Su, it's nothing."

They locked eyes again. Her eyes were slightly red. Her fingers froze on his wrists.

Peter saw it all through her red-rimmed orbs. He saw his own conflicting, inexplicable, and fierce emotions in her eyes. All bottled up because it wasn't supposed to have happened. It was inappropriate. Because she already belonged to someone else.

 _But_ , a small, selfish part of him whispered. _How could love be wrong?_

"Su--" his voice broke.

She wasn't ignorant. At that moment when she found herself once again breathless from his gaze, she knew. She could read everything beneath those blue orbs. She could see her feelings being reflected back to her. She could see the restraints being thrown around them just as what she had done to hers. And she could see, despite all the measures, that there was nothing else he could have done. The switch had been thrown. The impossible and the very last thing they expected to happen ever since that fateful morning they met... happened.

But Susan couldn't give it to him. Despite the fact that she knew he loved her too and that she should feel happy, she just couldn't. Because now, it would be the ruin of them both. Despite the fact that there was nothing she could ever want more than to throw her arns around him, they couldn't give in. Because nothing good would come out of it. Only betrayal. And pain.

"No, Peter," she said, willing her voice not to shake. "It's not going to happen."

Susan made a move to get away from him. To just run away and scream out all these things that were driving her over the edge. She wanted to go back to the wardrobe and cry. If fate would push her back to her world, then so be it. Because she didn't think she could go on living in this country feeling like her heart was being ripped in half.

She scrambled to get off from him, but Peter gripped her hands tight as he pulled her back to him. He got up from his lying position on the ground and sat up, pulling her hands forward to his chest.

"I love you _,_ Su."

Susan shook her head. "No, you don't. You--" she felt she was choking again. She looked away from his burning gaze because she knew she would only get sucked further into her whirlwind of damn emotions that she should have stopped the minute she realized she was falling for him. "You can't be saying that."

He let go of her hands to hold her cheeks. He lifted her face to bring her gaze back to his. He knew that he was doing would probably destroy him but isn't that what love is? That it was worth all the risk? He knew he was doing an act of betrayal to his brother just by being that close and intimate with her but he was already beyond all rational thinking.

"I love you," he repeated, his gaze unwavering on hers. "And I'm not letting this go."

"Stop--" she tried to break from his hold but it was a half-hearted attempt. "Don't--"

"Su," he started, willing his voice not to break. Because he needed her to know. He needed her to understand. "We don't know what breath is going to be our last. And with everything going on--" his voice trembled. He took a deep breath. "I don't want to leave something unsaid. I love you. And I know this wasn't supposed to happen. It shouldn't have happened. But, damn it--" He stopped.

"Please, Pete--" her voice was tired. She attempted to move away from him again but he held her. "Don't--"

"I know you feel the same way too," he continued. "You can't deny what is clear in your eyes."

"We can't," Susan gripped his hands on her cheeks and pulled them away. "Peter, we just _can't_."

"Why not?"

Susan glared at him through her red-rimmed eyes. "Because--"

"I know the risk, Su," he interrupted her, his voice clear and sure. "Believe me, I know it more than _anyone_. But we can't just pretend that _this_ is nothing. And I know you don't want that, too."

She didn't answer. She hung her head down, breathing heavily through her nose. She closed her eyes, silently wishing if it wasn't too late to pursue her plan and go back to the wardrobe.

"We can figure it out, when the time comes. Together. But right now," he said. "Just let go."

Susan met his eyes once again. She could see that he meant what he said. That he was determined to take this chance despite knowing the ruin looming over his head. _Their_ heads. But she could also see that he was determined to find a way to make it work. As long as she'd stay with him.

 _Together_.

He was right. She couldn't just go on pretending that there was nothing between them. Because what it was, it was... _good_. And she'd be lying if she'd say she hadn't imagine her life with him.

But Caspian... gentle and kind-hearted Caspian. The first boy she ever felt like she could be happy with. She also loved him. She felt warm in his presence. She felt comfortable whenever she's on his side.

"Let go, Su."

But Peter, he made her feel... breathless. Right now, trapped under his piercing gaze, he was firing up her nerves, making her alert and dizzy at the same time. Was she just supposed to ignore this... tension? Because she had never felt for more alive.

"Just let go."

She pulled him towards her and kissed him.

It took too long for Peter to realize that he was kissing her back. And that every noise around him-- the gentle whoosh of the air, the rustling leaves, the soft swish of her skirt-- seemed to blur into the background. It was just her. And her lips moving softly against his. And her fingers on his hair.

Any sense of control or thought flew from Susan's mind as she pressed herself close to him. Her nerves were firing up too fast that she was almost sure they were all fried up inside her system. But she didn't care. He felt so good and so... right.

When the need of air became unbearable, they pulled away. They leaned their foreheads against each other, eyes half closed.

Everything seemed to come to life around Susan. Before it had all been hazy and dull, as if aching. But now, everything was bursting with bright colors, blinding her but making her see more clearly and vividly.

"I love you, too." she whispered. "And we'll face this. Together."

Peter nodded softly, the action felt by Susan through their touching foreheads. His lips tugged into a smile.

He kissed her again.


	31. Visions

_He couldn't take her eyes off her._

_They were at the castle's garden, sitting on the ground. Around them, daisies, roses, buttercups, and rhododendrons bloomed like crazy while they danced with the wind. Fauns and dryads were busy tending and watering the flowers but took great care not to get close to the King of Narnia and the Daughter of Eve so as not to disturb them. The sun was bright overhead, bathing the garden with warm light._

_She_ _was simply dressed in a long sleeved pink garb. Her raven hair was worn down_ , _dancing around her face as the gentle breeze blow her way._ _She was chewing on the grapes the fauns gave her from their nearby grapevines._ _A trickle of juice dripped from her lips due to her careless munching and she wiped it away with her finger shamelessly which made him adore her even more._

_She looked so simple... yet so perfect._

_She was talking, droning on and on about how she loved_ _Narnia_ _. How it was very different from the place where she came from. How, in just mere days she already felt like this was where she really belonged all along, that this was her home. And how she and her siblings had no plans returning to their world because, really, there was nothing there for them to return to. Sure, there was the Professor that they came to adore but it was just him and no one else._ _They weren't even sure if they'd try to go back to their world they'd be able to come back to Narnia. And they weren't willing to take that risk._

 _He_ _kept nodding whenever she paused and giving her his_ 'ahs' _but, in all honesty, he wasn't listening. Okay, maybe he was listening but only a little. She was just so..._ distracting _that he kept focusing more on her face, her lips, her hair, and her voice that he'd lost track of what she was saying. He kept forcing his mind to focus on her words but it would stubbornly refocus on_ her _._

_"Stop doing that,"_

_It took few seconds for him to realize that_ _the words were for him._ _When he finally came to his senses, he found her hazel blue eyes staring at him._

_"Doing what?"_

_"You're staring at me,"_ _she looked away, cheeks going red._

_"So?"_

_"It makes me uncomfortable_. _"_

_He_ _supressed_ _a smile._

_Tomorrow was the birthday ball for him and Peter. A week ago, he wouldn't have cared about it. But now, he was on the edge of panicking. Because he'd be going to the ball with a beautiful lady beside him._ _H_ _e could only wish his ladies-in-waiting would manage to make him_ _look like the King he was and not like a troll._

_But even though he kept thinking about the ball tomorrow night, his mind was going crazy at what he was planning to do that very moment._

_He wanted to tell her_ _everything_. _He wanted to tell her that ever since that morning she walked in into his life, she was all he could see. That every second of everyday, she was he could ever think about. That even though he only knew her for barely a week, he couldn't imagine a future without her._

_He wanted to tell her that he was already in love with her._

_"Caspian?"_

_"_ _Yes?"_

_"You're doing it again."_

_"I'm sorry. It's just... you're so--" Comely? Stunning? Beautiful? "...perfect."_

_She looked away from his gaze, almost shyly. His cheeks burned with his poor choice of words. He was never the sappy kind of guy. Maybe because he had never felt this way to any other lady before and he had no idea what to say... or what to do._

_"I'm sorry," he said again. "I know how gooey phrases like that makes you uncomfortable."_

_"It's alright," she said, looking up at him. Her ears were slightly red and he wished it was because she was flattered of his compliment or repulsed by his sappiness. "It's just--" she blushed and it took him a few heartbeats to realize that she was repeating the words he said about fifteen seconds ago. "You're the first person who told me that."_

_His eyebrows scrunched in disbelief. "What?"_

_She nodded. She looked away from him again._

_"But that's impossible!"_

_She managed a chuckle. "Let's just forget about it, Caspian, okay?" She motioned to their surroundings. "Didn't we come here to enjoy the scenery?"_

Actually _, he thought._ We came here because there's something I want to say to you.

_But how could he do that? How could he tell her he loved her without making a total fool of himself?_

_She continued to munch on the remaining grapes she had, sometimes closing her eyes as she savored the taste. Meanwhile, he tried to control his erratic heartbeat._

_"_ _Su_ _?"_

_"Hmm?" she_ _looked at him._

_His brain short circuited at her piercing blue gaze and it took all of his willpower to make it function again. "Um... I was--" He tried to remember how to form coherent words but his brain was still a foot behind._

_"Are you alright, Caspian?" her voice was worried. She leaned forward to his direction. "You look like you're about to throw up."_

_He managed a laugh. "I'm fine, Su." He took a deep breath as he looked away from her eyes. He gave himself a few seconds to get his bearings._ Aslan's mane! _he mentally exclaimed._ Why is this so bloody hard?

_"Caspian," she asked softly. "Is there something you want to say?"_

_When he looked up and met her gaze once again, he felt his heartbeat mellowing to normal. Later, it would sink in that it was the first time he found himself able to breath under that hazel blue gaze. But, at that moment, he was so calm and collected that he wondered why he was so nervous only a few seconds ago._

_"Su," his voice was soft and sure. "I love you."_

_If she was taken aback by his confession, he didn't know. Her expression seemed to freeze as she continued to stare at him unblinking. And he couldn't blame her if she was. Because even he was surprised at how easily and seriously he said those three words._

_"I apologize..." he said. "..if this was all so fast. I only knew you barely a week, after all. But I--" How could he tell her that he didn't want to wait any longer because if he would, he'd explode? Because if he would, he might not get another chance? Because if he would, she might slip away from him? "I've never felt like this to anyone before. It's like, ever since I saw you in the courtyard... I knew. That you're..._ her _. It's like... I already loved you before I met you."_

_She was still staring at him, like he was crazy. Maybe he was. His words didn't make sense. But he was already beyond rational thinking. It seemed like his brain was no longer controlling his mouth. His heart was now holding the reins._

_"Caspian, I--" her hazel blue eyes were bright yet unreadable. "I don't know what to say."_

_"It's okay," he smiled. He took her hand and held them firmly in his. "I know this was all so sudden. I just... want to get this all out of my chest. If you're not ready... I'll wait."_

_He was not breaking eye contact and neither was she. Just when he thought he was starting to get sucked into the hurricane that was her eyes, her lips tugged into a smile._

_"Thank you, Caspian."_

_Then the landscape shifted._

_He_ _looked around him and realized that they were now on a field._ _The forest was on their left and Cair Paravel was on their right. Instead of flowers, they were surrounded by wild grasses that, if they standing up, would graze their knees. About a few yards from them, there was a dummy tied to a pole. Two arrows were embedded on the its forehead._ _The sun was bright overhead, just exactly where it was a few minutes ago_ _, as if they were there the whole time._

S _he didn't seem to notice the change. She was still looking at him, smiling subtly. But her hazel blue eyes gleamed differently. Also, he wasn't holding her hands anymore. But he didn't remember ever letting them go._

 _Suddenly, with a laugh, she threw herself at him._ _And in his immense surprise,_ _she_ _went straight through him. As if he was nothing more than thin air._

 _He went very still. What was happening? Did he turn into a spirit?_ He didn't see her reaction because he was too shocked to turn around but he knew she would be as frozen as her.

_But then, he heard her laughter ringing in the afternoon air._

_Confused, he turned around._

_And there he saw her, rolling around the fields with_ _Peter_.

_His jaw dropped in shock. His eyebrows scrunched in confusion. What in the bloody hell was happening?_

_They were laughing very loudly, as they rolled each other like children. The wild grasses parted around them like the sea._

_He suddenly got a horrible sensation in his stomach as if it knew something horrible was about to happen._

_He saw them stop with their activity as his brother tickled her hard. He heard her laugh uncontrollably, shrieking for him to stop. He saw her grabbing his hands and pinning them down on either side of his head._

_If it was a few seconds later or a few minutes, he had no idea. All he knew was that everything seemed to look and sound like a blur around him and then after everything refocused, Susan was kissing Peter._

_His blood seemed to roar in his ears. He got up from the ground hastily that he swayed on the spot when he got to his feet. But he barely noticed. He barely noticed that his chest was clenching so hard that he was almost suffocating. He barely noticed that his eyes were so wide they almost looked like they were about to jump out of their sockets._

_All he noticed, all he could see, was them. On the ground. Kissing._

_He couldn't breath._

_"_ _Yes. Watch_ _."_ a _cold voice whispered in his ear sending a set of invisible knives scraping up his spine._

_He turned around so quickly that he whiplashed. But there was no one there._

_"_ _Watch as your_ _brother_ _steal the girl you love. Just watch. Because you can't do anything, can you? You're useless because that cat sent you away on an errand you know even a servant can do."_

_He returned his gaze back towards the couple on the field. He was lying on his back, staring up at the skies while she laid on her side with_ _her head on his chest_ _and an arm across his stomach, holding his hand._

_His whole body felt numb and paralyzed._

_He didn't know what to do._

_"_ _He sent you on a fool's errand to push you away from the picture. After all, he has always favored Peter all these time, hasn't he?."_

_He felt mad. At that voice, at the scene unfolding before him, at everything. He knew that none of this was real. He knew that all of this was nothing more than a fake vision intended to manipulate him._ _It was just an illusion_.

_But the voice's last words had hit him too close to home._

_"_ _And deep down, you know that, don't you--_ _"_

_Strong gusts of air started to blow around the field but the couple on the ground didn't seem to notice._ _Dark clouds were forming overhead, swallowing the afternoon sun. Grayish smoke slowly appeared_ _around him, converging into a spiral a few paces in front of him. And out of it stepped a woman, smiling knowingly and wickedly at him._

_The White Witch. Jadis._

_"_ _\--_ my son. _"_

*****

"NO!"


	32. Chess Pieces

"You're going down, Your Magnificence," Susan mocked, eyebrows proudly raised, a grin playing on her full lips.

"I absolutely refuse to believe that, _Your Gentleness,_ " Peter mocked back, mimicking her.

"You better believe it, Your Worshipfulness, because _that_ \--" she moved her queen piece across the chessboard, challenging Peter's own queen piece knowing there was no other square for it to move to unless devouring hers, thus securing her win. "--is your reality."

"Reality, is it?" the blonde-haired King smirked. "Checkmate!"

Susan's jaw dropped. She stared in horror at the chessboard spread in front of her and glared daggers at Peter's horse piece that cornered her king. She scanned her chess pieces frantically, looking for anything that might wipe that horse piece off the board but it was hopeless. Her king was toast. _Again_.

Peter laughed loudly in victory then laughed even more upon the look of utter disbelief on Susan's face. Did she actually believe she could beat him at chess?

For the past few weeks, in between swordfighting and archery practice, kingly duties on Peter's part and the now occasional history lectures on Susan's part, chess had been their favorite past time. And for the past few weeks, Susan kept losing. Which she just didn't get _why_. She was a decent player though not as good as Edmund. That brother of hers was just insanely good (though she _could_ beat him sometimes when she was really concentrating and really bent on wiping the smug grin off his face.) But Peter couldn't win against Edmund. So why couldn't she beat Peter? She groaned in frustration at the thought as she continued to glare at the chessboard in front of her.

Peter loved watching her lose. Not that he was cruel, he just loved watching her face scrunched up in anger and frustration when she knew she was on the verge of winning but ended up losing. She was like that in their swordfighting matches too. He find her reaction... somehow _cute_. It made him fall for her all over again.

 _And it also made you all the more annoyingly sappy_ , his brain reminded him.

Still fuming at her defeat, Susan looked up at Peter. His mischievous smirk and sparkling blue irises greeted her. For a moment, her expression melted a little. Then she got even more annoyed.

Oh, how she _hate_ it when he do that! He knew full well what that certain action of his does to her system and he does it anyway. She suspected it was to make her admit how annoyingly gorgeous he was but she'd starve herself for a week first before she'd admit that to him.

 _Still_ , the sappy part of her brain gushed. _He_ is _annoyingly gorgeous._

The thought made her want to strangle herself and this, okay, _annoyingly gorgeous_ human being in front of her.

Peter continued to look at her, letting his eyes dance with mischief and fixing his smirk on his lips. He noticed her freckled pale cheeks flushing red and he had to fight the urge to smile even wider.

He still couldn't believe that he had this effect on her. He couldn't believe that he could make her blush under his gaze, make her squirm with his smile, make her shiver with his touch.

He still couldn't believe that she loved him, too.

It seemed only yesterday that he was cursing himself for being insane, for falling for her knowing she would never feel the same way. Because he was only this irritating blonde-haired boy who always made her day unbearable. And yet...

Susan threw a queen piece to his nose.

Peter refocused his attention to her. She was smiling smugly, as she leaned back on her hands against the floor of the council room they were in. His jaw half dropped in disbelief.

He threw a horse piece to her forehead, wiping the smug look on her face. He smirked back.

Glaring, she scooped three chess pieces into her hands and threw them to his face.

***

"Okay," Edmund observed by the council room's door. "This is _not_ normal."

Beside him, Lucy was smiling at the view unfolding in front of her. "And this is the part where I say, _"I told you so"_." she quipped at her elder brother.

The son of Adam looked as his elder sister chase the King of Narnia around the council room after the said King pinched her nose hard then made a run for it. It must had been a very hard pinch because Susan's nose was red as she chucked a throw pillow on Peter's direction.

The council room no longer resembled the formal space the siblings were familiar of. Sure, the round table and the high backed chairs were still there. But the floor was littered with chess pieces and throw pillows. Nearby, a low table was filled with bread, fruits, flagons of water and cups, and turkey. Below it spread a thick red mantle. Strewn beside the mantle were Peter's brown leathered boots and Susan's laced sandals.

Edmund had to give it to his sister, she was a fast runner. Peter had to duck around her to avoid her outstretched hand, ready to claw his face off.

"I don't think so," Edmund said.

Lucy looked up incredulously at him. How could he not notice the palpable attraction in the air? Or the way Peter and Susan looked at each other? Or the way they were laughing loudly like two carefree young adults as Susan tackled Peter to the ground?

"You have eyes, right? Use them." Lucy gestured at the scene unfolding in front of them.

"It doesn't necessarily mean anything." he shrugged stubbornly.

"You know, brother, I think you should wear the color of denial on their wedding day." the youngest Pevensie huffed.

"Why are you so keen in thinking that there is... _something_?"

"Because I have _eyes_ , that's why!"

"For a twelve-year-old girl, you sure are nosy."

"And besides," she completely ignored her brother's words. "You said it yourself-- none of this is normal. This is not like them."

"Forget it. Susan fancies Caspian. And the way he looked at her back when he was still here suggested that the feeling is mutual. It made me want to throw up." he wrinkled his nose.

"I know," Lucy's expression looked like she was about to squeal but holding it in. She was still twelve years old after all, no matter what her physique suggests. "He confessed. Isn't it--"

" _What_?" Edmund's jaw dropped as he fixed his gaze at Lucy. "But then why is she--" he pointed at the couple now heading over to the low table overflowing with food. They were still bickering and laughing. Then Edmund seemed to caught himself. He held his palms up in a careless gesture and shaking his head at Lucy. "You know what? I don't care. You're making me a gossipmonger and I don't like it. Stop it."

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Oh, grow up, Ed."

The youngest Pevensie leaned away from the door then started to walk away, grabbing her brother as she did so. They left the door ajar, just like when they found it when Lucy went looking for Susan to take her to the beach and Edmund was looking for Peter to challenge him in an archery game (Edmund was also quite good at it now, though not as good as his sister; and he uses a crossbow instead of a traditional bow that Susan uses) and, instead, found them together running around the council room like little kids.

"Anyway," Lucy said. "I think we _need_ to care. We are here because of a prophecy. And Susan... well, she needs to be careful."

"Yeah," Edmund said, his voice dry. "She's our sister and she caught the attention of the royal siblings of Narnia which is not good. Oh, this is like one of those romantic comedies I love so much!" he added sarcastically.

Lucy glared up at her brother but didn't tell him off. Because he was right. Aslan knows how those said romantic comedies ended. Which was really _not_ good.

"But if it really is happening," Edmund said as they cross the vastness of the Great Hall, heading to the kitchen. "I hope she knows what she's doing."

***

_They're just dreams._

_They're not true._

_They're just illusions._

_S_ _he's lying._

_I'm not her son._

_There's no way I'm her son._

It was slowly killing Caspian.

The nightmares kept coming back into his head. Every night when he'd go to sleep, he saw Peter and Susan in the field again. Every morning when he'd climb to the mouth of the _Dawn Treader_ 's dragon figurehead to chase his sleepiness away, he'd hear their ringing laughter. Every afternoon when he'd lounge in the foremast, stare off the horizon, and wait for the sunset, he saw them kissing. Even now, with him standing on the tallest tower of Lord Bern's home in Lone Islands looking out to the horizon, he could hear Jadis's voice calling him her son.

It was tearing away Caspian's sanity. Those images, those glimpses of the past and present, those memories that weren't his but _felt_ like his-- they were haunting him. He didn't have any proper sleep ever since the blasted nightmares started. He could feel himself losing weight with all the sleepless nights.

_My son._

Those words...

He'd rather take death...

Caspian willed his mind to go blank. To just focus on the sunset-colored horizon, to train his ears on the celebration and the hustling and bustling of the Lone Islanders on the streets down below. To summon the happiness and elation he had felt when the slavery problem of the Islands came to a conclusion.

At the break of dawn the next day, he would be leaving for Narnia. The _Dawn Treader_ was ready and stocked with food and supplies for the journey home and the crew was itching to get back to their wives and children. Caspian took comfort on the thought that he'd be back on Cair Paravel soon. A raven had already been sent to Narnia to inform Peter that his errand had been a success and that he was coming home.

He couldn't wait to get home.

He couldn't wait to breathe Narnia's fresh air, to taste Freesia's cooking again, to squabble with Peter over their kingly responsibilities, to challenge Edmund to a friendly swordfighting match, to tell Lucy stories from the olden times, and to be with Susan.

Caspian missed all of them. He missed Peter and Susan. He missed Narnia.

He knew that all of these illusions will finally stop once and for all when he's back home. Because in Cair Paravel, where the Tree of Protection resided, the Witch's power was weak. Caspian knew she was only able to penetrate his dreams because he was far away from the Tree's power. Once he'd get back to Cair, he knew his night and day would finally be at peace.

At least, he wished them to be finally at peace.

_My son._

Caspian refused to believe those two words. Even though they triggered forgotten memories buried in the back of his head for the last eighteen years, he didn't _want_ to believe those words.


	33. Swordfights

After another exhausting (but quite satisfying) afternoon decapitating dummies with her bow and arrows, Susan trudged into her bedchambers and headed straight to her wash room to prepare for a hot bath.

Not that she was really exhausted. Practicing archery, reading in the library, wandering around the castle's gardens, and walking by the shore down by the beach were the only stuff she could do in Cair Paravel because Freesia forbade her and her siblings to do anything close to _chores_. At first, the Pevensies ignored these directions and proceeded to help around, especially in the kitchens. The three of them were literally trained in household chores after living with their Aunt Alberta and Uncle Harold and after that with Professor Kirke (not that the dear Professor gave them chores; it was the old housekeeper, Mrs. Macready) so they don't mind the work. But Freesia actually got mad at them and threatened not to give them any meals for a week.

Susan knew if Edmund had grown up under Freesia's care, he would have no idea how to wash his underclothes. She began to wonder how Peter and Caspian didn't become irresponsible adults during these last two years.

Susan's stomach clenched involuntarily at the thought of Caspian.

She was wrong. She had thought confessing to Peter might finally put her feelings at ease. That her chaotic emotions might be unraveled. And that she would be ready to face whatever consequences might arrive for her and Caspian once she'd said the four letter word to the Magnificent King.

But the truth was... right now, she was afraid. Everytime she wasn't distracted, dreadful thoughts occupied her mind. Strong surges of guilt were eating her up from the inside.

Because... Caspian. And her strong feelings for him. And that he had left for Lone Islands thinking he has her heart.

Well, he _did_ have her heart. But now, a month later...

Susan never wanted to hurt him. She would never ever intend to hurt him. So what would she tell him once he return from his voyage? How could she say to him that she fell inlove with his twin brother while he was gone? How could she tell him that she felt torn between the person she had wanted very much to strangle once upon a time and the person she fell inlove with at first sight?

Susan threw her body to her enormous bed, fighting the urge to scream. How did she come to this? How could her life be so ridiculously complicated? During her sixteen years of existence, she had always thought she'd grow old alone. Most of the girls her age back in her world already have someone to take to school dances and parties with them, unlike her. Yet now...

Why couldn't she just have said the four letter word to Caspian when he had confessed her feelings to her that afternoon in the garden? Why did she just have to accept Peter's offer to dance that night? Why...

Why did she just have to fall for that blonde-haired King?

That blonde-haired King who could always steal the air out of her lungs everytime he'd look at her with those piercing, alluring blue eyes. That blonde-haired King who could always make her shiver without warning. That blonde-haired King who was her first ever kiss yet... she didn't want any other kiss ever again.

A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts.

Susan opened her eyes; she hadn't noticed she had closed them. She heaved herself up from her bed and opened her door. She was greeted by the kind and smiling face of Lydia, one of her ladies-in-waiting.

"My Lady," Lydia did a little curtsy then held out a small rolled-up paper. "His Majesty, King Peter, asked me to give this to you."

Speaking of the blonde-haired King...

"Thank you, Lydia," the eldest Pevensie smiled at the red-haired lady. Lydia was a couple of inches shorter than Susan and a bit skinny but was three years older. Out of all her handmaidens, Lydia was the one she liked most. "And how many times must I have to tell you to call me Susan?" she added.

"Forgive me, My Lady," Lydia said. Then she blushed. Curtsying to Susan once again, she turned away hurriedly and disappeared beyond the halls.

Susan shook her head, smiling. She closed the door behind her and leaned her back to it to read the contents of the paper.

She couldn't resist the smile crossing her lips.

"Well," Susan murmured to herself. "I guess my warm bath will have to wait."

***

Peter advanced at her, his sword Rhindon swinging towards her neck. Susan took a step back, leaning away from the sword tip. When the blonde-haired King swung his sword towards her once again, she ducked, moving away then swung her own sword towards Peter's torso. He leapt away just in time.

He grinned at her. "Good."

She grinned back. "Thank you."

They were in the courtyard outside Cair Paravel, a few yards away from the apple tree, and Cair's double oak front doors. The glistening Eastern Sea under the afternoon light was around them as they neared the sharp edge of the courtyard overlooking the sea.

Peter had asked her to come to the courtyard to give her fencing lessons. But after merely a few minutes, he discovered she already know a lot about fencing. She got the correct swing and hacks and has good reflexes. So they decided to have a fencing match. They completely ignored the couple of blunt, practice swords Peter had brought that afternoon and went straight to using their swords-- Peter with Rhindon and Susan with Edmund's sword. A few minutes later, they were still at it.

Susan's hazel blue eyes glinted. Then she attacked, bringing her sword in a downward slash towards Peter. He brought his sword up to meet hers but she twisted her wrist, maneuvering her sword and herself around so that the afternoon light was behind her. She could see Peter's blue eyes slowly squinting at the sunlight then he returned the pressure in their locked sword, twisting them once again. For a moment, Susan let go of the pressure, letting him swing their sword around but at the last moment she jerked her hand and... Rhindon came clattering to the ground. Peter's face was filled with horror.

She smirked. "You _do_ know, right, that Edmund taught me how to use a sword?"

Then she swung her sword towards Peter but he leaned out of the way, stepping backward. She advanced again, and he went sideways. When she swung her sword for the third time, he ducked, rolling towards his sword and picking it up.

"And you _do_ know, right, that _I_ was Edmund's teacher?" he smirked back.

He hefted his sword and delivered a slash on Susan's side but she brought her sword to her back to meet his blow. Then with all her might, she swung her sword up and slashed at Peter. He deflected with his sword, and brought his free left hand up to push her right arm holding her sword away. Then, he attempted to hack at her with his sword but she returned his action, pushing his right arm away before he could even bring down his sword then she whirled around pushing away his left which was still holding her right arm. Free of his hold, Susan swung her sword but he ducked. She swung back, he deflected, locking their swords again. Then he brought his left hand to her right, wrenching away her sword before she could react. Whirling around, Peter pointed Rhindon against Susan's neck and brought her own sword in his hand against the back of her head.

They both panted, their faces serious and inches from each other's.

Then Peter's face broke into a smile. He lowered Rhindon and withdrew his hand behind her and offered her the sword. "Good match, My Lady."

Susan gripped the hilt of the sword, returning his smile. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I hope you weren't too bothered by the fact that I had managed to disarm you?"

Peter sheathed Rhindon to its scabbard hanging on his hip. "Of course not. It only proves that I'm a great teacher." He smirked widely then turned his back to her, heading towards the stone bench by the apple tree.

She turned towards the sea for a few heartbeats, inhaling the cool afternoon breeze and savoring the adrenaline as residue of the fencing match. She had to admit... the adrenaline she get from archery were no match for _this_. Then she followed Peter.

Before reaching the stone bench, Susan's hazel eyes rove over the apple tree.

She still couldn't fully comprehend that this simple looking apple tree was the Tree of Protection. A few days after she arrived in Cair Paravel, Caspian had told her about the Tree and its history. He told her how he and Peter, after vanquishing the Witch and reducing her to a mere echo of her shadow, traveled to the the very ends of Narnia, to the Western Wild and acquired the apple that they planted in the very courtyard of Cair Paravel to be the source of the magical barrier around Narnia that would serve as protection against the Witch and her evil forces.

Susan almost didn't believe Caspian- for how could an apple planted only two years ago become so fully grown- but then she'd caught herself. Nothing was no longer impossible. She had crossed into a world where the myths and legends about unicorns, dryads, and fauns she had learned when she was a child were real.

"So," Peter spoke once she took a seat by his side. "Would you care to enlighten me how you did it?"

"I thought you weren't bothered by it?" she sheathed the sword to its scabbard carefully. The sword was Edmund's and Susan knew how he loved the thing. She was even surprised when her brother agreed to let her borrow it for the afternoon.

"Not at all. I'm just curious how an archer managed to disarm the greatest swordsman in Narnia."

Susan couldn't resist from rolling her eyes. "Cocky bastard."

Peter laughed. "So?" he prompted. "Was it a trick that Ed taught you?"

"No. I merely devised a strategy."

"Ah," Peter nodded. "The sunlight. And..." he recalled the action leading up to his disarmament. He couldn't help but smile in admiration. "You used my own strength against me."

"Surprised?"

"Trust me, My Lady," he said. "Everything about you surprises me."

Susan's heartbeat stalled momentarily at those words. And when it resumed, it was beating fast and she felt like she couldn't breathe.

Peter's gaze was fixed on hers, as if stuck in a trance. She was just... so breathtaking in the afternoon light. She looked so wonderful in her forest green dress. And the way how her raven hair fell on the side of her neck, down her shoulders and to her back...

Susan, too, couldn't seem to look away from his stare. The afternoon light brought out the blue in his eyes, making it more prominent than ever. He looked so dashing and majestic in his brown tunic, his blonde-hair shining. He silhouetted over her.

Their heartbeats were quickening, each feeling as if they were still engaged in a fierce fencing match. Their eyes were locked with each other's, both unable to look away. Unknowingly, slowly, they drifted closer... and closer...

"Susan! Peter!"

The eldest Pevensie and the King of Narnia both jerked themselves into the present, leaning away from each other hurriedly, as Lucy Pevensie came bursting out of the double-oak front doors of Cair Paravel and ran down the flight of stairs to the courtyard.

Neither of them have told anyone yet about... _them_. They didn't decide on it but it was an unspoken agreement. Neither of them was ready. Ready about what neither of them wasn't quite sure.

"Lucy," Susan gave her younger sister a smile as she reached her side. "What is it?" She looked down at the youngest Pevensie's feet. Her smile faded. "And where are your sandals?"

"Never mind about that now--"

"Lucy Pevensie, what did I tell you about running barefoot in the courtyard--"

"It's Caspian!" Lucy said, brightly. Her brown eyes glistened in the afternoon light as she looked down at Peter and Susan, smiling.

"Did he send a raven?" Peter asked. It had been almost a month since his twin brother sent word from his voyage to Lone Islands. He understood, though; difficult issues like slavery needs full concentration, especially when he was dealing with it alone.

"Yes," Lucy replied, beaming. "He's coming home."


	34. Ruins

_He's coming_ _home._

Those words kept resounding over and over inside Susan's head as she stood at her bedchambers' balcony, staring up at the star-splattered skies, and barely noticing the freezing night air whipping frigid daggers at her face.

A letter had arrived through a raven earlier from the Lone Islands. It turned out that Caspian had no difficulty in settling the slavery issue he had been sent to settle. According to him, it took only less than a month with the help of Lord Bern and his people. They tracked down the slave lords and managed to wring information from them about the missing Lone Islanders that they had sold. The people of the Islands were very grateful to Caspian and Aslan and vowed their allegiance to Narnia's crown as long as the Island shall exist.

The letter was dated two weeks before and the residents of Cair Paravel assumed that Caspian was now on his voyage back to Narnia and probably even halfway home. They were all glad that Caspian's voyage to Lone Islands was a success and excited because he was on his way back, a couple of months earlier than what they had expected. The palace staff and Peter's advisors were planning to throw a celebratory ball for this success and were now asking for the blonde-haired King's consent.

Susan was in a trance the whole afternoon after Lucy conveyed the news. She didn't even remember how she got to her bedchambers. All she remembered was that she skipped dinner because her thoughts made it impossible to think about other things and she thought maybe freezing herself out in her balcony might help her keep them at bay.

And yes, part of why she skipped dinner was because she didn't want to see Peter.

She bathed herself in the moonlight, trying to take control of her swirling thoughts. The whole of Narnia was at her feet, its beauty illuminated by the silvery moonlight, and yet she barely even took a glance.

This was the moment Susan had been dreading for ever since she decided to tempt the cosmos and gave in to her feelings in that blasted field. What was she supposed to say to Caspian? Was she supposed to tell him the truth despite knowing that it might hurt him? Was she supposed to tell him that she had loved him but then she realized she loved his brother too? Or was she supposed to continue with whatever she had with him before he left and pretend like nothing happened while he was away?

But what about his said brother? His said brother that Susan fell head over heels for accidentally? His said brother who she couldn't stand the first second she met him but now turned out to be one of the most important persons in her life?

Again, how did her life become so ridiculously complicated?

Susan gripped the railings of the balcony very hard, shutting her eyes tightly that she didn't care if she wouldn't manage to open them again. It took all of her willpower not to jump over that balcony. Maybe that way, a solution might surface for her current predicament. Her silly yet confusing and guilt-ridden predicament.

"You missed dinner," a voice spoke behind her.

Susan didn't bother to turn around.

That voice used to make her heartbeat race a million miles per hour. It used to calm her everytime she'd start worrying about the prophecy. It used to comfort her (by making fun of her) everytime she'd get on a ridiculous argument with Edmund.

That voice used to be her... well, _everything_.

But now, it just made her want to cry.

"And you didn't knock," she said.

"I did, but you didn't answer, so..." he trailed off. She could feel him hesitating. "It's shivering out here, Su. You could catch cold."

Still, she didn't respond. How could she when her mind was so full of confusion and worry and guilt that thinking about anything else was literally impossible? She could sense him moving towards her but she didn't turn around and acknowledge his presence. When he reached her side, she didn't turn to face him.

"I didn't see you at the dining hall so I figured--" he stopped. She could feel his piercing blue gaze on the side of her face, maybe noting how her eyes were fixed on the horizon while holding back tears and how her jaw were locked tight with the effort. "Are you okay?" he asked.

And that was when she finally lost it.

"No, I'm not!" she shouted, all the feelings she had been keeping hard at bay for the past few hours came exploding out of her. She couldn't contain them anymore. She was tired of feeling suffocated and choked. And his voice, his _blasted_ voice laced with worry for her because she missed the _blasted_ dinner, was the final straw.

"I'm far from okay, Peter!" she blinked her tears back furiously. "I'm--" she took a deep breath, her chest tightening. "Everything's _not_ okay!"

She finally looked at him. His own blue eyes stared back at her, suprised her sudden outburst. He didn't seem to understand yet why she was acting like that. Why she wanted to pull her hair out in frustration because she could have prevented this from happening and yet she didn't. Why she was now crying in front of him because, deep down inside, she already knew what she needed to do to end this predicament of hers but it was going to tear her apart.

Then she could see the expression on his face changing, morphing from confused and shock to normal bordering on emotionless.

"Caspian," he said.

***

She turned away from him and looked ahead at the spread of nothingness in front of her again. Her jaw clenched as she took ragged breaths, shutting her eyes.

Peter's own chest seemed to clench too as his brain slowly caught up with why she was like that. Although, that afternoon when Lucy dropped the news on them, he already had an idea. She had turned pale and, for the rest of the afternoon, looked dazed and distracted.

He understood why.

And he would be lying if he'd say he wasn't worried.

But didn't they promise it was going to be alright? After all, there was no harm done. She wasn't bound to Caspian before he left. She didn't give him her heart and made any promise that she would. Wouldn't that suffice as proof that they weren't doing anything wrong?

"It's gonna be fine, Su," he said softly, hands reaching out to console her. "I'm sure--"

"No, it won't be," she said, recoiling away from his hands. As if the mere touch of him would burn her to ashes. "And you know bloody why."

His chest tightened even more, curling all on its own that he was starting to have trouble breathing. "I don't," he said, surprised that his voice didn't shake. "Because we-- no, _you_ said it's right."

" _Right_?" Her blue eyes were wide and shining with tears and disbelief. "This is not right, Peter. What we have between us... it's wrong."

He felt like he was being punched on the throat. "Su--"

"We're not supposed to get along," she murmured, her voice breaking. "I'm not supposed to feel these... these _things_ towards you."

"We said we'd find a way to make him understand. We said we'd figure this out together."

"This is a two week relationship," she said. "We don't know what it is."

"We both know what it is," he responded quietly.

"Well, it's wrong!" she snapped. "It was not supposed to happen!"

"So when you said you love me, it was a mistake?" he snapped back, his voice rising. "When you kissed me in that field, it was a mistake?"

"Yes!"

He laughed humorlessly. "I was there! I saw the way you look at me. You can't fool me, Susan!"

He couldn't remember the last time he had ever called her out by her full name. She was his Su as far as his memory served. She looked surprised as him, too. Her hazel blue eyes seemed to blaze as she finally turned to her side to look at him.

"He's your brother, Peter!" she said in frustration, her hands on her side seemed to shake with the want of strangling her own hair. "How can you be so selfish?"

He couldn't believe this. " _I'm_ being selfish?" He laughed humorlessly again. He didn't care if he sounded crazy. He didn't care if the palace staff down below in the kitchen heard him. " _I'm_ not the one who is trying to find the easy way out!"

" _Easy way?_ " Her eyes were wild. "There's no easy way! Whatever I do, someone gets hurt!"

"Then be selfish! Stop thinking about my feelings. Stop thinking about Caspian's. What do _you_ want?"

She looked away from his burning gaze, glancing down at her toes as she placed her arms around her torso and heaving deep breaths.

"Susan, it's not my fault if I fell for you. Trust me, I didn't want to. Because I love my brother and I know he loves you. But I can't--" he stopped, taking deep breaths to ease his feeling of hyperventilation.

 _But I can't take one more second pretending I don't love you_ _too_.

"I hate myself for doing this to Caspian," he continued. "I should no longer call myself his brother anymore. I know I should have distanced myself from you. But, damn it, I love you."

She turned away from him now, gripping the railings of the balcony that he saw her knuckles going white. He could swear he heard a sob coming out of her lips.

Silence engulfed the both of them for the next few seconds. Peter tried to take control of his heartbeats by slowly inhaling and exhaling through his nose. He tried to focus on the sound of the waves lapping against the shore down by the beach below. And on the hooting sounds of the owls on the apple trees by the castle's orchard.

Anything from the idea slowly forming in his head of what the outcome of this argument would be. Because he didn't know if he'd come out intact.

She was slightly shaking. At first he thought she was sobbing again. But then, she wrapped her arms around her body, over the purple satin sleeping robe she was wearing.

He unclasped his coat and offered it to her.

"Take it," he said softly. "You're freezing."

She didn't respond nor made any move to take it from him.

He moved behind her to place the cloak around her shoulders. But before he could, she recoiled from him.

His chest twisted painfully. He slowly draped the cloak on the balcony railing, his hands shaking. And it was not because of the cold.

"Please, don't do this, Su," he whispered quietly. The tears that he had been holding back for the past few minutes now started to cloud his vision once again. "I'm sure we can find another way to fix it. Just... not this." _Please_.

She pressed her hand on her forehead. "This is the only way, Peter, can't you see?"

"No, it's not."

"Please don't make this any harder--"

"We swore, remember? We would face the consequence _together_. We _promised_."

He wouldn't let her do this. What they have was a two week relationship, true. But it was more than that. _Way_ more than that. And she knew it too. It was clear to him. Why else would she be crying now in front of him and trying to convince herself that it was all a mistake?

"Su," he reached for her shoulders and turned her around to face him. She was shaking with sobs again. Her tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. He wanted more than anything to wipe them off then pull her to his chest and stop her from crying ever again. But he didn't. "Look me in the eye and tell me that you don't love me then I'll--" he stopped. "I'll give up."

They were only inches apart. He could count the freckles dotting her nose and pale cheeks. He could feel her warm breath. And yet, she was still avoiding his gaze.

"Tell me that you don't love me," he murmured. "And it's over."

She looked straight back at him. She stopped shaking. She steeled her face. She took a deep breath.

"It's over."

"That's not what I asked," he responded, voice emotionless.

"Peter," she said, breaking away from his hold. Her hazel blue eyes, those eyes that were like miniature storms that he'd always find himself being sucked into, were now gray. "We're over."

Then she walked away from him, heading out to the doors of her bedchambers and slamming it shut behind her, leaving him freezing and heartbroken on her balcony.


	35. Homecomings

Susan was startled awake by trumpets blowing loudly down by the shore. She groaned inwardly, shoving her head under her soft pillows to drown out the sound.

To say that she was annoyed was a tragic understatement. Even back in England, when she had to get up really early to prepare breakfast for her, Edmund, and Lucy before going to school (because Mrs. Macready was a bat in human form) she was not a morning person. When she got in Narnia, it got slightly better because she didn't need to wake up at six a.m. and if she had to, she merely had to look out of her balcony and listen to the waves lapping at the shore and she'd be fine. But now, she couldn't help but curse mentally as the horn blew hard once again.

Who in their right minds would sound trumpets that loud and in that early in the morning? The sun hadn't even completely risen, she was sure of that. Now, if there was something important happening or a royalty coming she'd understand but--

Susan's eyes flew open.

She quickly got up from her comfortable bed and pulled open the doors to her balcony, squinting against the rising sun in the east to look out to the sea.

And there it was. The unmistakable sail of the Dawn Treader flying with the morning wind.

 _Caspian_.

She immediately ran to her wash room, ignoring the mess of what used to be her bed (which was so unlike her because she was known to be the most organized of the three Pevensies.) She splashed her face with cold water (she wanted to take a bath but her ladies in waiting hadn't prepared the tub because she forgot to tell them last night when they set up her hot bath. And, besides, she _had_ taken a hot bath the night before so she'd figure it would be alright because she was sure she didn't smell bad anyway.) She went to her wardrobe and grabbed the first set of clothes she could get her eyes on. She ran a brush hastily through her raven locks and grabbed a pair of laced white sandals for her feet. She then bursted out of her bedchambers, not even bothering to shut the doors close.

When Susan arrived at the beach, a huge huddle of people were already there. At first she thought that Caspian had already got to shore. There was no way she could see if there was a rowboat already on the beach through the thick crowd of people. But when she got to the front, the others immediately making way when they spotted her, curtsying with the process (she still hadn't got used to that,) the _Dawn Treader_ had just laid anchor an arrow shot away from the shoreline. Two rowboats were now heading to the beach.

Edmund and Lucy were already there when Susan got to the front line.

"Morning, Su," Edmund greeted. When he caught sight of the dark shadows under Susan's eyes, he quietly whistled. "You look horrible."

Edmund looked like he'd been awake for hours now. Back in England, this would have been impossible. If Susan hated having to wake up before six a.m., Edmund _loathed_ it. She almost had to pour a bucket of water on his head everytime to get him off the bed. But here in Narnia, Edmund seemed to almost have no problem waking up early. Maybe because he had swordfighting lessons to look forward to.

Her brother was wearing a blue tunic and brown pants that morning. His hair was blown to one side and his brown eyes sparkled with that mischief he seemed to always have.

"Slept late last night," Susan replied, heaving a series of deep breaths. That would be the last time she'd be running from her bedchambers to shore. Her lungs and sandaled feet were not a fan of it.

Lucy, who was on Edmund's other side, focused on Susan's face too. "Why?"

She, too, looked very awake. The youngest Pevensie was wearing a pink dress. Her hair was tied in braids. As she looked at Susan with twinkling brown eyes and bright face, she looked like she had slept really well the night before. With no irritating thoughts tap dancing in her brain, no looming doomsday decisions making her crazy, and no blonde-haired Kings haunting her dreams.

"Insomnia," Susan answered briefly.

"I didn't know you have insomnia," Edmund raised his eyebrows.

"Just..." Susan glared at him.

"Fine," he relented, looking away from her and back at the approaching rowboats.

The blonde-haired King in discussion was standing a few feet from Susan, beside Oreuis. They seemed to be talking because the centaur was slightly leaning down towards the King and the latter had his eyebrows scrunched.

When their eyes met, his expression seemed to relax.

_We're over._

His face hardened again. He looked away from her, turning his attention back to Oreuis.

Her eyes stung slightly.

This was what she wanted. This was her decision. She was in no place to break down over this.

Susan refocused her attention to the rowboats, squinting her eyes to catch a glimpse of Caspian's face. She rubbed her hands against her forearms that were barely covered by the sleeves of her dress to fight the cold morning breeze.

She tried to ignore the painful pang in her chest as she shook his hardened blue gaze out of her head.

***

The moment Caspian step foot on Narnia's shore, he couldn't resist the sigh of relief and happiness that broke out of his lips.

Finally, he was back. He was _home_!

Caspian inhaled deeply the fresh Narnian air that he had been deprived of for almost three months. He relished the waves of the sea lapping against his ankles as she got off the rowboat. And as his eyes landed on the crowd of people gathered at the beach, he immediately felt light. As if the burden itself that he was carrying throughout his voyage finally decided to let go of him just by the mere sight of his family and friends.

Even those nightmares he had been getting for the past few days seemed a lot less bothersome and worrisome, as if blown away by the cool Narnian air. Caspian got the feeling he wouldn't be having them again.

The crowd burst into applause as he reached the beach. He smiled gratefully at them all as he put his arms around his companion's shoulder, Captain Drinian.

But then, Caspian's surroundings seemed to blur as he saw a certain Daughter of Eve sprinting towards him.

Susan slammed into him in an embrace so tight that he was pretty sure some of his ribs broke with the impact. He didn't mind one bit.

"Caspian," she said as she clung to his shoulders.

He gripped her tight. He remembered when he received Peter's letter about the ambush Susan had gone through in Lantern Waste. At that time, the _Dawn Treader_ was barely a day away from Cair Paravel and barely halfway to Galma. It had taken all of his willpower (and a few hours of talk with Captain Drinian and the first mate, Rhince) to continue with the voyage and ignore his urge to go back to Cair. He had never felt so useless.

"Susan," he whispered softly to her ear.

But he was here now. With her. That was all that matters.

Susan broke away from the embrace, smiling up at him as her hands gripped his arms. "I've missed you," she said.

Caspian smiled back affectionately as he studied her face for half a second. Her hazel blue eyes sparkled under the morning sun. Her freckles still dotted her pale cheeks adorably. He was sure those dark shadows under her eyes weren't there the last time he saw her, though.

"I've missed you, too," he replied.

Then Caspian felt another body slamming into his. _Lucy_.

He hugged the youngest Pevensie tight, lifting her off the ground for a second. For a moment, he ran his fingers through the girl's brown hair. He was sure it wasn't shoulder length when he left.

Edmund hugged him next. At him, Caspian had to double take. Did the son of Adam grew _taller_? Because Caspian remembered him barely clearing his jaw in height. Now, he looked like only a few inches shorter than him.

Then came his brother.

"Caspian," Peter pulled him into brotherly hug. "Welcome back."

"It certainly is great to be back, Pete," Caspian replied, grinning widely. He looked up at the castle, its towering turrets shining with the rising sun. "I see that Cair Paravel is still in one piece?" he said, eyebrows raised playfully.

"I know, it's unbelievable. It has been a hard two and a half months."

"I've never been more prouder of you, brother." Caspian patted Peter's back playfully.

"Oh, well. I'm used to being the only one running this place," Peter responded, smirking.

"Hey!"

The two Kings of Narnia laughed loudly. Caspian horribly missed his brother's sense of humor and how he seemed to always bring out _his_ sense of humor. Aslan knows there had been a huge shortage of that during his voyage. Caspian almost had the mind to make fun of Drinian to compensate but he figured the Captain wouldn't like it as much.

"Well," Peter said. "We have a lot of catching up to do, Caspian."

"You're right," Caspian agreed, nodding. "But first, I..." he stopped, not quite sure how to say it without being awfully cheesy. "I never got to say thank you."

He took Susan's hand and pulled her to her side. He smiled down at her. For a few heartbeats, she looked back at him with wide eyes as if startled of his gesture. But then, her lips broke into that sweet smile he loved. "For coming to her rescue in Lantern Waste."

He knew he was being ridiculous. Peter was a great man. He would save anyone who would ask for help. But Caspian couldn't help it. He looked down at his and Susan's intertwined fingers, catching a glance at the scar on her left arm. He cared so much for this girl beside him that he couldn't even explain how much.

Caspian expected something snarky from his brother in reply because that had been Peter's habit everytime Susan was involved in a conversation. But Peter smiled genuinely.

"I promised, didn't I?" the blonde-haired King said softly. "Always."

Suddenly, Caspian's nightmare flashed for a moment in his brain. He saw a flash of raven and blonde hair. He saw a vast field.

He mentally slapped himself, his anger at the Witch surfacing again. He calmed himself by thinking that he was in Narnia now and that his mind was now in peace and no longer easy to manipulate. The Witch could no longer reach his dreams.

Caspian returned Peter's smile, squeezing Susan's hands softly. "I know," he said.

Still, Caspian couldn't help but feel a bit... _weird_.

And why did it felt like " _always_ " seemed to convey a lot of things?


	36. Troubles

Peter's diplomatic negotiations with Calormen came through successfully two days after Caspian's own successful voyage to Lone Islands. After Freesia's badgering of the two Kings that might or might not involve blackmails about losing meals for one month, Peter and Caspian gave their approval of hosting a celebratory ball.

The staff immediately busied themselves with the preparations, hustling and bustling around Cair. They plan to host the ball that Saturday. Freesia went commando, barking orders left and right to the her cooks and to the caretakers. She gave explicit directions not to let any of the royalties step foot on the kitchen. When Edmund went there one afternoon to sneak an apple after a tiring day of fencing lessons, Freesia chased him away with a spatula. He grumbled about it to Caspian but the King merely laughed. Him and Peter would have been a couple of sickly and malnourished Kings if it weren't for Freesia and her care. She was more than their head cook-- she was like their mother. So if she ever boss them around (that doesn't happen all the time, though; only if there are preparations for an upcoming events or food involve because Peter and Caspian are _hopeless_ at preparations) the two Kings don't mind.

Peter and Caspian sent invitations to the ball to their neighboring countries. And one of their guests would be Prince Rabadash of Calormen.

At first, both of the Kings didn't want to invite him. Peter could still remember vividly the Prince's behaviour the last time they invited him to Cair Paravel. But they had no choice. They had just pulled through a diplomatic agreement with Rabadash's father, the Tisroc. The Tisroc was a sensitive man. He would see it an insult if Archenland was invited but not Calormen. And he has a large army, making him both a valuable ally and a difficult enemy. Caspian and Peter knew that they would need all the allies they have if they would have face the White Witch in battle.

When Edmund found out, he itched to meet the Prince. He knew what Rabadash had said to Susan months ago during the Kings' birthday ball and he yearned to smack Rabadash in the nose. He prayed that the Prince of Calormen would do something stupid during the upcoming event. That way, there would be a reasonable excuse to punch him the face without endangering any diplomatic agreement.

Peter and Caspian also invited King Lune of Archenland and his family. King Lune was a very close friend to the Kings, especially Peter. The Magnificent King had helped the King of Archenland find his missing son, Prince Cor. Peter and Caspian had also aided Archenland when Calormen tried to conquer them. Ever since then, King Lune had been one of the two Kings' strongest ally.

Lucy was excited. When she found out that the Archenlanders are coming to the ball, she couldn't wait to meet them. She had heard a lot about them from Mr. Tumnus' stories. Especially about the stories of the twin Princes.

She was excited to meet Prince Corin, the younger twin son of King Lune. He and his twin brother, Cor, were almost the same age as Edmund. She heard how Corin easily relinquished his claim to the throne of Archenland after Cor was found. Having heard a lot of court stories when she was still living in England, Lucy knew how a crown can easily corrupt people's minds. According to Mr. Tumnus, Corin had no interest in being King all along and was more than willing to let his long lost twin brother be the heir when Cor returned to court. Of course, Lucy knew that Cor was the rightful heir because he was the older of the twins but still, she couldn't help but be in awe at Corin.

But then again, Lucy was living in a country where the crown was shared by two brothers.

As for Susan, she couldn't wait for the ball to be over. She didn't like the idea of being ogled from head to toe again. And she liked even less the idea of seeing Rabadash again. She didn't know what she would do if the Prince would try to talk to her again the way he talked to her last time. Stab him with an arrow maybe but she knew it would only lead to war. Aslan knows she already have a pending prophecy foretelling war against the White Witch. She didn't need another.

And yes, she wasn't thrilled to meet the Archenlanders.

Not that she disliked them. She actually liked them so much. She heard that the Archenlanders were kind and generous people, much like the Narnians. She knew that they are the oldest ally of Narnia, even back to the old days before the White Witch ruled the country. And she knew that her siblings were quite ecstatic to meet them. She had no idea why she dreaded their arrival.

Okay, maybe it was because of a certain redheaded niece of King Lune that might or might not have feelings for Peter.

When Susan found out from Edmund that Elizabeth, King Lune's eighteen year old niece, was a good friendof Peter and that he personally wrote her invitation letter to the ball, she only shrugged in response. Her family and Peter were close. It was only natural. But when Lucy added that the redhead liked Peter, that a year ago there had been a proposed marriage arrangement between them, and that when Peter wrote her the invitation letter he had also asked her to be his partner for the upcoming night, Susan immediately cleared the room she and her siblings were in, retrieved her bow and arrow from her bedchambers, and strolled to the archery field to practice.

Susan convinced herself that it was just stress because in the first place, she didn't want to go to the ball but her siblings were practically forcing her to attend. And also, Caspian asked her to be his partner and after all these time, she found out she still couldn't resist him everytime he flash those chocolate brown eyes of his.

She convinced herself that she couldn't care less about who Peter would bring to the ball.

Because she really _didn't_ care.

She _shouldn't_ care.

Susan shot the dummy twenty yards away with much more hatred than usual.

*****

"The Tree of Protection is dying."

Those words hung in the air as Caspian, Peter, Susan, Edmund, Lucy, and Mr. Tumnus gathered around the Tree of Protection in Cair Paravel's courtyard, the opened oak front doors of the castle left unnoticed behind them.

Susan shivered as she looked up at the apple tree. When she first arrived at Cair Paravel, the tree was the first thing that greeted her. Back then, she didn't knew that it was the tree that protects Narnia, enforcing the magical barrier around the country that protects it from the Witch. When Caspian told her that it was the Tree of Protection, Susan wasn't surprised. Why else would the apple tree be planted in the middle of the capital's courtyard? And why else had she felt a magical hum in the air, like a radiation of power, when she first set her eyes on the apple tree all those months ago?

But now, its barks were peeling. Its leaves were yellowing and huge pile of dead ones were littering the ground. Its fruits, which were once silver, were now turning copper in color and withering. At the center of the trunk, a few feet above from the tree's base, a punctured mark, almost the size of a child's shoe, was oozing sap.

Susan was pretty sure it wasn't there a few months ago. A few days after they arrived in Cair, Caspian had told her and her siblings that the tree was poisoned. He didn't say who poisoned it or when because he, as well as Peter, had assumed that the Tree was slowly healing and thought it best to forget it ever happened.

"How did this happen?" Caspian asked. "I thought it was cured."

"It was never cured, Caspian," Mr. Tumnus replied, his voice was low as if he was also dying with poison. "The nature spirits did their best but still nothing. Dark magic is hard to contain much less cure."

Susan went forward, resting a hand on the punctured mark. She could almost feel the poison slowly sapping the life of the tree. "Who poisoned it? When?" she whispered.

"One of ours. Just before you came."

It was Peter who answered. He was kneeling at the ground, staring at a withered leave of the tree.

Susan should feel happy that the blonde-haired King finally spoke to her after weeks of silence but she found it hard to be. His voice was full of pain, resentment, and... anger. And she was sure that it wasn't entirely because of the poisoned tree.

"What?" Edmund's voice raised. "By a traitor, you mean."

"Was this the work of the Witch?" Lucy's voice was quiet. She stood beside Edmund, her arms around her torso.

"A minion of the Witch, yes." Caspian answered. "But when we interrogated him, he had seem to have taken a vow of silence. He never said a word about his mistress."

"Does this mean that..." Edmund trailed off. "The Witch has returned? That she has taken on a physical form?"

"We don't know." Caspian's voice was grave as he looked up at the dying apple tree. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, as if his mind was completely preoccupied about something else.

They were silent after that. Susan knew they were all thinking the same thing: now that Narnia was vulnerable to the White Witch's power, how long before she would declare war against them? Would they be strong enough to hold her off? The prophecy said that Susan would be the one who will decide the fate of them all but the question was _when_? When would she know that she was offered the choice? Aslan had said that it would be because of Edmund and Lucy, but aside from that, she was clueless.

"What are we gonna do?" Lucy asked. "The ball tomorrow night, the visitors, what if the Witch--"

"It's too late to cancel the ball, Lu," Edmund said. "I think..." he hesitated, looking back and forth at Peter and Caspian. "...the only thing we can do now is to triple the security around the borders and in the castle. As well as in Susan's bedchambers."

Susan turned to look at Edmund. His gaze was trained on her, hard and serious. "I got a feeling that your part is coming," he said.

"Ed's right," Caspian approached Susan, taking her side and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "I'll station additional sentries outside your bedchambers and in the staircase as well. I'll also assign some guards to both of your bedchambers." He turned his attention to Edmund and Lucy. They both nodded in agreement.

"I will send some guards to meet and escort our visitors to the castle," Caspian continued, turning back to his brother. "The Calormens and Archenlanders are already on their way here."

"I'll meet the Archenlanders myself, brother," Peter stood from his kneeling position and looked straight at Caspian. "I will not let Beth's family come to harm."

"Agreed, brother," Caspian nodded.

Susan stared at the punctured mark on the tree trunk, trying to get rid of the sudden clenching feeling in her gut. She convinced herself that it was because of what Edmund had said about her part in the prophecy approaching and not because of how Peter said that name so easily and casually like it was already an everyday part of his vocabulary.

But, really, who was she kidding?


	37. Insomnias

The garden wasn't his preferred place to hang out in order to think about love and war, but Peter had no idea how he ended there.

For the umpteenth time that month, he couldn't sleep. After surviving another dinner with his brother and the Pevensies, he headed immediately to his bedchambers to call it a night, with the hope of getting some early rest so he wouldn't frighten away the visitors for the ball tomorrow with the dark shadows under his eyes which he seemed to have no idea how to get rid of. He already tried concealing it with powder, like what Freesia suggested, but it only made him paler than usual, making him look like a dead man walking.

But no matter how he willed his mind to go blank and not to think about anything, he couldn't. He trashed and turned in his bed, nearly tearing his pillows in frustration, but to no avail. Thoughts spiraled in his brain that his head started to pound. He thought of the Tree of Protection in the courtyard, dying with poison. He thought of the Witch and the war looming closer than ever. He thought of the prophecy. He thought of Susan Pevensie.

Before he knew it, his legs had carried him from his bedchambers, to the doors of Cair, and out to the castle's garden.

The moon was shining up ahead, casting a bright light around the garden, that the silver moonlaces glowed brilliantly. The whole garden was lit up, that Peter had to hold his breath for a minute or two at the place's beauty.

Peter doesn't visit the garden often, especially these last few months with him being alone to take care of kingly duties because Caspian was away. Of course, when he needed fresh air and he felt tired, too tired enough to go to the courtyard and practice his swordfighting skills, the garden was always his go-to place. Caspian was always the one obsessed with the garden. Maybe because he tend to steal grapes there because Freesia always nag at him everytime he'd get a few bunch from the kitchen. Caspian loved grapes.

Nevertheless, Peter walked forward, following the path towards the middle part of the garden. Then he strayed from the cobbled path, stepping on the uneven grass that tickled her ankles until he reached a spot where there were only few moonlaces. He lay on his back, folding an arm under his head for a pillow. He stared up at the night sky, letting his eyes follow the various constellations that adorned it.

Peter felt relaxed. His hurricane of thoughts slowed to a stop, relaxing his mind until he was thinking about nothing except the bright constellations above him.

For a few minutes, Peter's mind was comfortably empty with thoughts.

Then one by one, they returned in a stream of consciousness in his head.

He thought about the Tree of Protection. Now that the apple tree was dying and along with it, the magical barrier around the country, the Witch could now attack them anytime. Which meant that him hanging out in the garden unarmed in the middle of night probably wasn't the best idea but he highly doubted Jadis would attack Cair. Noy yet, anyway. His sentinels around the border of Narnia would have already reported if they spotted movements, a large number of the Witch's creatures sneaking into Narnia for example. Unless, of course, the Witch had already obtained physical form and was now powerful enabling her to open portals from wherever she was straight to the middle of Cair. Shivering, Peter didn't want to think about that. Besides, he got the strong feeling that the Witch might not be that powerful yet.

Which reminded him about the prophecy. The prophecy that was still unclear to him. It speaks of a choice offered to Susan and her decision will either to save Narnia or destroy it. What choice though? Will she somehow be offered a one-time chance to join the Witch and by choosing not to will turn the tide of the war? And what of Edmund and Lucy? The prophecy didn't say the two youngest Pevensies' part to play. Of course, both of them had already become invaluable people in Narnia. Edmund had already become one of the best swordfighters Peter had ever seen. And Lucy... she was like this glue that holds the siblings together. Peter had always heard that Susan was the voice of reason in the siblings but for the last few months he had been with the Pevensies, Lucy had become their source of wisdom and strength.

Peter got the feeling that there was more than what this prophecy obviously states. After all, prophecies always becomes clear when it has already come to pass.

Which reminded Peter of _Susan Pevensie_.

He closed his eyes. He focused on the hoots of owls from the few trees that dotted the garden, on the sound of the blades of the grass around him scraping against each other, and on the sound of lapping waves against the shore. Anything but the image of her smiling down at him, her face a silhoutte above him, as she kissed him in that blasted field and the sound of her voice telling him it was nothing but a mistake that night in her balcony.

He heard a gasp somewhere behind him.

Peter shot up from his lying position, heartbeat racing, and looked behind him.

And she was there. Her pale face was illuminated by the light of the moonlaces. Her raven hair was down, spreading around on his shoulders. Judging from the dark shadows under her eyes, she couldn't sleep either.

Hundreds of emotions came piling up his throat as he stared at her. This was the first time they had been alone together anywhere. Peter would be lying if he'd say he wasn't avoiding her these past few weeks.

"I--" Susan started. "What are you doing here?"

Peter knew he should be angry with her. He shouldn't be looking at her the way he was looking at her now. She should be the last person he'd want to see for the rest of his life after all that she had said and done to him. She broke his heart. He had given it to her fully yet she shattered it with no hesitation. Yes, he should be angry with her and at his brother.

But Peter couldn't. For the past few days he tried but he just couldn't. Because he loved them both so much. And because it wasn't their fault he was in his current predicament, it was his. He should have grabbed the nearest rope the moment he realized he was slowly falling for this Daughter of Eve in front of him. He shouldn't have let his feelings come to far but he didn't. He gave in to his feelings knowing that there would be painful consequences.

And the most painful part? She loved him too. He knew it without a doubt. Because he was there when she had looked in his eyes while saying it. He saw the way she looked at him. He saw the way she looked at him _every bloody time_ _she looked at him_. She loved him too, and that made him believe that they could face and overcome the consequences of their choices because they were in it together. But he was wrong. She loved him too and yet, she still chose his brother.

"I might ask you the same question," Peter replied.

"I--" she hesitated. Then she looked away from him. "I couldn't sleep." She pulled her cloak tightly around her.

Peter didn't respond.

"I better go," Susan said after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.

"No, it's okay," Peter stood up from his sitting position on the ground. "I'll leave."

When he was fully on his feet, he realized how close they were. Two paces and he'd be able to touch her. He balled his fists and stuffed them into the pocket of his cloak, resisting the urge to reach out to her.

"No," she protested. "Stay. I'll go. Besides--" she gestured towards the castle. "--my guards would be wondering where I am."

She looked back at him.

And it was then that Peter knew: he would never love anyone the way he loved Susan Pevensie.

Without thinking, he surged towards her. He pulled her by her waist to him and he kissed her.

It was frenzied, bordering on rough. Peter felt her hands running up his arm, to his shoulders, then to his hair, pulling him close. He gripped her waist tightly, afraid that something might pull her way or worse, that this was all a dream and he'd jolt awake.

She pulled away from him, suddenly, and maneuvered out of his grip. She ran away back towards the doors of the castle, leaving him once again under the moonlight.

Peter touched his cheeks. It was wet, though he was sure he wasn't crying.

*****

Edmund pressed his back to the wall behind the door leading out to the garden and stayed quiet as possible when Susan went running past his destination to the double doors that led to the castle's dining hall then disappearing through it. Though he was sure she wouldn't hear him even if he'd intentionally make a sound because she was sobbing hard.

His mental gears turned frantically at what he had seen. He was not gonna pretend he knew entirely what it all meant because it was all very confusing to him. Not to mention awkward because he had never ever spied on Susan when she was with guys. But what he had just seen was... something else.

 _Lucy was right_ , was all Edmund could think about.

Edmund heard Peter's footsteps approaching the door. As he retreated to the far corner of the room so that the dark shadows completely hid him from the direction of the door, he saw Peter went in and closed the door behind him and walking towards the opposite doors to the dining hall like a man in strings.

 _Lucy was right_ , he thought. _But what about Caspian?_

*****

_Caspian_ _was wrong._

_He thought that his nightmares were at an end now that he was back home. Back to the place where the Witch's power and manipulations couldn't reach._

_He was never more wrong._

_He was standing at_ _Cair_ _Paravel_ _'s_ _courtyard, looking up at the Tree of Protection. But the Tree wasn't dying. It was bursting juicy and glittering silver apples above his head. Its bark and branches were browner than ever. Tts rich and thick leaaves were healthy with chlorophyll. There were no punctured mark to be seen on the apple tree's bark, no dry leaves around its base. Caspian had never seen a tree nore healthy. To his right, Narnia's capital stood with all its glistening glory. Its closed oak front doors looked regal as ever, illuminated by the setting sun._

_"I understand that you truly love this place."_

_The White Witch appeared behind the tree, her face pale as ever and a faint smile played_ _across her lips._ _She looked up at the castle, her sharp nose were more prominent than ever under the sun._

 _"Even when you know, deep down, that this isn't really the place for you. Am I right, my dear?"_ _she brought her cold eyes to his._

 _Caspian wanted_ _to scream at her to disappear but his lips seemed to be glued together. His voice was stuck in his throat._

 _"Perhaps, when I shall have my revenge, I'll save this place for you to rule. P_ _erhaps_ _, I'll even_ _spare that daughter of Eve and make her your Queen. Don't worry," she gave him a smile that made him shiver despite the warmth of the sun. "I'll make sure that that brother of yours will not get in the way. He won't even be alive to see you rise to glory." She chuckled, sending freezing daggers up Caspian's spine._ _"What_ _do you say, Caspian? Of course, you will have to join me."_

_He wanted to open his mouth and tell her to shut up but couldn't. He tried to ball his fist but he couldn't seem to feel his hands._

_"You are still convincing yourself that I'm only manipulating your mind." the Witch spoke softly, as if reading his mind. "That what I had shown you was a lie. And yet," Jadis stepped towards him. He could feel the cold radiating from her body. "You are afraid to ask them the truth. You are afraid that_ I _might be the one whose telling_ _the truth_. All _the truth._ _Am I right,_ my son _?_ _"_ _She smiled that sickly smile of hers again._

_He attempted to scream again, to tell her that he was not his son and he will never ever join her but he still couldn't open his mouth._

_Her words hit too close to home and he couldn't afford to hear more._ _He attempted to move his legs to just run away from_ _her and probably throw himself off the ledge by the portcullis to the base of the cliff down below and maybe he would finally wake_ _but his feet seemed to be stuck to the ground_.

_Jadis_ _moved away from him, circling the Tree of Protection. She ran a finger through the trunk, her hands looking paler than ever against the bark of the tree. She seemed to be amused with his expression. The faint smile on her lips grew to a evil smirk. "Don't worry. Tomorrow night--" she stopped with her pacing and fixed her cold grey eyes at him once again at him "--you'll know the truth--"_

_The Tree of Protection burst into flames, engulfing the Witch's figure. He saw the smoke climbing high to the blue skies. A few seconds later, Cair Paravel itself was engulfed in a towering blue flame._

_Caspian squirmed in his stuck position, trying to run away. He grunted, lifting his foot with all his strength but to no avail. The burning tree was only a few feet away from him. He'd be burnt into a crisp in no time._

_But Caspian couldn't feel any burning heat. At first, he thought because none of it was real that was why his senses weren't functioning fully. But then, in reality, he always had a high tolerance for both hot and cold. He could survive both in extreme temperatures._ _But this was different. He could barely feel a thing. Even if a branch fell to his foot and burned his boots, all he felt was a warm trickle on his toes._ _He was bathing in debris but he felt nothing._

_Jadis reappeared, walking straight out of the towering blue flames. She had this blue shield around her, like an aura, repelling the fallen branches that threatened to come in contact with her. He had only seen this special gift of the Witch once before, back when he and Peter led the rebellion against her._

_The Witch stopped in front of him, the cruel smirk still on her face._ _"--and you shall choose." she finished._

_Caspian_ _looked down at his own body. He realized he was also glowing_ _, wrapped in his own blue shield._

_He_ _had the gift of the_ _Ice Queen._


	38. Secrets

"He's starting to suspect who he is."

Aslan couldn't help but look incredulously at the Emperor who was in his favorite human form. They were both once again in the Emperor's massive quarters, the pool in front of them reflected bluish light around the enormous room. The waters rippled as the Emperor stared at them unblinking. Aslan couldn't see any image from the magical pool but he knew his father could.

"How could you hide this from me?" Aslan's once powerful voice was almost a whisper. "All these years?"

"It was for the greater good, my son." the Emperor responded.

He didn't look at Aslan. He merely stared down at the pool in concentration as if everything around them would crumble into dust the second he'd look away. This made Aslan growl a little in his throat. He was also in his human form, a form he barely use. But at the moment, he decided it would be appropriate. He couldn't afford to think what would happen in this massive room if he was in his lion form and he'd roar in frustration. Of course, that didn't mean he still couldn't bring down the room even if he was in a form that limited his powers.

" _Greater good?_ " Aslan echoed, his dark eyebrows going up. "Father, you messed with _their_ _lives_!"

"Maybe it's that Witch," the Emperor murmured, still focused on the pool. Whether he was talking to himself or to him, Aslan wasn't quite sure. "Maybe she's manipulating his dreams."

"Father," it took all of Aslan's willpower not to bellow. "Are you even listening to me?"

The Emperor fixed his old blue eyes to Aslan's face. They seemed distracted, sad, and full of regrets. "Yes."

"And Peter?" Aslan couldn't help his face from contorting in slight rage. "The truth about who he really is?"

The Emperor looked away from Aslan's dark and burning gaze. He returned his attention to the glowing pool in front of him.

Aslan turned away his head in irritation and anger. So many secrets. So many things his father hid from him that could unravel everything if the two Kings would find out.

"If the Witch will succeed in swaying Caspian to her side," the Emperor spoke. "She will be more stronger and more powerful than ever."

"How could she even convince anyone to join her side when she's not even strong enough to achieve a physical form."

"Her ability to manipulate dreams," the Emperor responded. "This has always been her key in gathering forces." He heaved a deep breath. "If Caspian will join her, she will be unstoppable."

Aslan glared at his father. He was still trembling with anger why the Emperor kept so many things from him. He was also mad at himself at why he didn't see clearly about all these before. All the people in all the worlds he had been watching saw him as an all-knowing entity and yet, he didn't even know that his own father interfered on the lives of two people.

"So you knew all along?" Aslan asked, willing his voice to stay calm. "That he is her son? Even when Peter and Caspian first led the rebellion to vanquish her?"

The Emperor didn't answer. Aslan was starting to get annoyed. Was he not speaking loud enough?

But his lack response was an answer in on itself.

"And yet you didn't do anything," Aslan stated.

"Did you expect me to reveal Caspian's heritage-- or Peter's-- when they were winning against the Witch?" the Emperor answered. "It would have distracted them."

Aslan ran his human hands on his face to rein in his frustrations. It would not do any good if he'd started telling his father how every part of his sentence was wrong. How Caspian and Peter deserved the truth even if they had been in a very critical position. It would do no good anymore.

"How come the Witch didn't know during the First War?" Aslan asked instead. "She's powerful. Surely she must have sensed it that Caspian was of her blood?"

"I assumed it must be because of her own blood why she couldn't sense him."

"What's the difference now?"

"Because now," the Emperor's voice showed a hint of hesitation, as if the next words were going to weigh him down terribly. "Jadis has a powerful seer on her side."

Aslan's eyebrows scrunched in confusion at first, his mind still preoccupied with all the lies his father kept for half a millenia and not fully comprehending the Emperor's words.

And then it hit him.

Aslan didn't need to ask twice. He knew who his father was talking about.

"Zeya," he said.

All these time, Aslan thought Zeya was fine with all the popular attention her sister, Zhalif, was getting. Ever since Zhalif spoke the Great Prophecy that predicted the first downfall of the Witch over a millenia ago, she had been respected by revelers all over the Emperor's country. She was worshipped even more when the prophecy came to pass and Narnia was liberated from the Witch's icy grasp. Zeya was equally powerful as Zhalig. She also foresee dangerous events with her gift of foresight but she was constantly being overshadowed by her sister. Aslan always thought Zeya loved Zhalif too much too care about it all. But he thought wrong.

It turned out that Aslan was wrong about many things.

Silence both engulfed father and son in that massive room. They both stared down at the glowing pool, the Emperor watching the images from the blue waters that only he could see and Aslan pondering all the things he had discovered that evening from his father.

Aslan always knew that the Witch had a son. A few hundred years after Jadis conquered Narnia, she left the country for a few years and lived in Telmar, a once quiet but powerful kingdom. It was ruled by King Miraz and his wife, Queen Prunaprismia. The King loved her Queen so much even though she couldn't give him any heir. For years they tried but to no avail. Until the day that the Queen grew sick and, eventually, died. King Miraz was in despair and swore to never have any wife again. He mentored a nephew that that he planned to succeed his throne once he'd depart the living world.

Jadis had watched the kingdom from afar. She wanted it to be hers. She knew that she would be invincible if Telmar's hardened warriors and army would be on her command. So she went to Telmar, disguised as a maid servant. She planned to seduce the King and give him an heir, so he could never refuse her even if she would reveal her identity when the time comes.

And she was successful. The King was so taken up by her unnatural beauty and charm. After one night with him, Jadis left the King and returned to Narnia. Months later, she gave birth to a beautiful baby boy.

Once the baby was born, the Witch immediately knew he didn't inherit her powers. He had so much of Miraz in him. The baby was more of Telmar than of Charn. But it didn't bother Jadis. She had felt no connection to him. He was just a tool for her scheme. A puppet. She planned to send him to his father. And once he would be old enough to take Telmar's throne, she would make him kill his father and she'd rule by his side as the Queen Mother.

But when Jadis's messenger arrived in Telmar, carrying the baby boy to give him to his father, King Miraz didn't want him. For he had realized that the woman he had laid with was the White Witch. His subjects were talking about it behind his back and he doubted that his whole kingdom didn't know yet. He felt guilty, embarrassed, and disgusted. He sent the messenger to take the baby back to Jadis.

The next morning, King Miraz was found dead in his bedchambers, hanging by his neck on the chandelier.

As for the baby boy, he never reached his mother. The messenger went missing after entering Narnia's borders.

Why didn't Aslan see it before? Caspian's black hair, his warm brown eyes, his tanned skin-- those were the exact features of the Telmarine King, Miraz. Or even the fact that he looked nothing like his _twin_ brother, at least.

 _And Peter_ , Aslan thought. He shut his eyes close. _Oh, Peter._

If the Kings know that they had both been leading lives built on a gigantic lie...

"So what do you propose?" Aslan spoke, the words tasting like sawdust in his human mouth. "What do we do?"

"We do nothing," the Emperor simply replied, his voice void of emotion.

 _"What?"_ Aslan's voice raised a full octave once again.

"Don't you see it, son?" the Emperor looked back at him, his blue eyes blazing. "It's starting. The prophecy is unraveling!"

"But the Prophecy is all about the Pevensies, Father! And it is _far_ from being unraveled! Susan Pevensie's part is clear but what about Edmund and Lucy?"

"Prophecies work in unexpected ways, my son. You know that better than I do. And Susan's part may be not as obvious and clear as we all thought it may be. And her two siblings... who could say that they won't be an important part in her decision? The point is..." the Emperor inhaled. "We won't know unless it will come pass."

"Fine. But what has this got to do with continuing to lie to Peter? And Caspian?"

"I have a strong feeling that Peter is going to play a vital role in this war."

"And Caspian?"

"Him most of all." A dark shadow seemed to pass over the Emperor's face. "We would achieve nothing if we will choose to interfere now and not to let things unravel on their own."

Aslan breathed deeply for a few seconds. As much as he wanted to convince the Emperor to tell the two Kings the truth, he understood the logic behind his father's reason. There was much more at play here. After all, if the Emperor hadn't interfered when that messenger was bringing Caspian to Jadis, who knows what would have happened to him? He wouldn't have led the rebellion that overthrew Jadis from Narnia, which was predicted in a prophecy spoken a millenia before he was even born.

 _And Peter too_ , Aslan thought.

Maybe his father was right. As much as he hated to think otherwise, maybe all of these... _deceptions_ will lead to the unraveling of the prophecy.

"It would be best if we do nothing for now." the Emperor said, although by the look on his face, Aslan knew his father yearned to do _something_. Somehow, that eased his anger towards the Emperor and gave him comfort. At least, the Emperor wasn't as heartless as he seemed when he decided to keep the truth from the Kings of Narnia fort the meantime.

"Of course," the Emperor added nonchalantly, although Aslan detected a slight tremble in his voice. "If I'll interfere with human affairs directly again, I'll perish."


	39. Scars

"Su, do you have anyidea what sleep means?" Lucy asked, annoyed while looking at Susan through the large mirror in the latter's bedchambers.

The eldest Pevensie didn't respond.

"Let me guess," Lucy said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "You couldn't. Because of your bloody _insomnia_. _"_

"Not now, Lu," Susan grumbled in reply. She already knewshe looked terrible. She discovered it the moment she got up from her bed at dawn after giving up the fruitless attempts to sleep. She didn't need to be reminded about it by her sister or by any of her ladies-in-waiting who were present in her bedchambers not five minutes ago.

Susan stared at herself in the mirror. She looked exhausted. Her ladies-in-waiting already applied considerable amount of powder under her eyes but they seemed to have done nothing to conceal the dark shadows. Her eyelids looked as if they were about to droop close any moment now.

"Well, I guess you _need_ to be in the mood..." her younger sister continued. "...since you'll be walking into the Great Hall filled with guests _ten minutes_ from now."

Susan wanted to be annoyed at Lucy for acting like their mother but was too tired to feel so. She just wanted to lie on her bed for the whole night even though she had already done that the whole morning and afternoon. She continued to look at her haggard face in the mirror, trying very hard not to think about what happened the night before.

She resisted the urge to touch her lips.

"Honestly, Su," Lucy went to sit on the edge of her bed. "Edmund and I are starting to worry. Is this about the prophecy?"

Susan wanted to tell her that it wasn't about the prophecy. That she didn't even give the prophecy another thought after Edmund told her that her part of it was approaching the day before at the courtyard.

She wanted to tell her sister about _everything_.

But then Susan looked at Lucy through the mirror. She looked at her sister's young and innocent face. She remembered how only three months ago, she prepares her breakfast before going to school. She remembered how she hold her in her lap when the school bullies tease her for being an orphan. She remembered how her face lights up everytime they'd play hide-and-seek.

"Yes," Susan answered.

Lucy stood up and went over to her. She placed a hand on Susan's shoulders. "It's all going to be fine, Su. I know you're going to choose correctly."

Lucy's gaze was so piercing and so... _knowing_ even through the mirror that Susan wondered if she was talking about the prophecy or if she knew Susan was lying and that she meant something else entirely. Was it possible that Lucy might have been more mature than Susan had given her credit for?

"Thanks, Lu," she said.

Lucy smiled at her, patting her shoulders lightly. "Come on, get up. Edmund will be here any minute and you know how he hates everytime he's all ready and we're still not finish with 'girl stuff.'" She drew air quotes in the air, rolling her eyes.

Susan couldn't help but smile, too. "Yeah."

She stood up from her chair and examined herself from head to toe at the mirror. She was wearing a green long sleeved satin dress with elegant gold embroideries on the bodice and cuffs. Her hair was tied up behind her head in an elegant knot with glittering brooches holding them in place, a few curly ones hanging and framing her face.

She looked so grown-up and so... _far_ from that London schoolgirl that stumble into that world through a wardrobe just three months ago.

"I know," Lucy said, as if she read her mind. "I couldn't believe it either. It felt like years ago."

Susan looked over at Lucy beside her. She was wearing a long, silvery dress. Her golden brown hair spilled around her shoulders. She was only a few inches shorter than her now. Despite her terrible mood, Susan couldn't help but whine internally at the unfairness of time. How could her twelve year old sister be only a few inches _shorter_ than her?

A knock behind them interrupted Susan's childish thoughts. "It's open," she called out.

Edmund appeared at the doorway. He looked so dashing and princely wearing a dark blue tunic and brown trousers with matching boots. His black hair was messy like always but somehow, it complemented his look.

"Evening, sisters," he did a mock bow then smirked at them both. "Are you both ready?"

"Yes," Lucy replied, going over to him and grabbing his left arm to hook her arm under with. She looked back at Susan. "I'm still confused why Edmund will be escorting you down the stairs instead of Caspian. Isn't he your partner for tonight?"

"Yes, he is," Susan replied, looking at herself in the mirror once again to confirm that, yes, she still looked dead tired but she could do noting about it now. She walked over to her siblings. "But he's greeting our guests in the entrance hall..." she hesitated. "...with Peter."

She met Edmund's gaze.

He was looking at her strangely and seemed to hold her gaze for only a few seconds before looking away and taking a sudden interest at a spot above her head.

"Really?" Susan asked him. "No jokes about how horrible I looked?"

Edmund looked at her once again, that strange flicker still there. But then a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You look horrible, Su," he said. "But I bet you'll still make the other ladies in the Hall look like trolls."

"Hey!" Lucy pinched his side.

"Ow!" Edmund glared at her. "That didn't include you, young lady! Geez!"

For the first time that day, all that happened the night before vacated Susan's mind and she laughed.

Yes, they might no longer look like the Pevensies who stumbled into that world three months ago, she thought. But they were still _the_ _Pevensies_. Edmund could still make them laugh and drive them crazy. Lucy was their light in the dark. And she was still Susan, the overthinker and the wet blanket.

"You look beautiful, Su." Edmund said softly.

"Thank you, Ed." she smiled, her eyes glistening.

"And you, too, little sis." Edmund nudged Lucy beside him.

"Aw, Eddy!" Lucy looked up at him, grinning. "Thank--"

"Okay, let's go," he caught her off, his voice annoyed. He offered her right arm to Susan.

Susan's grin faded.

The garden came surging back into her mind. She felt the soft grass caressing her ankles. She saw a flash of blonde-hair illuminated by the moonlight. She felt a tingling kiss on her lips.

A tingling kiss that was nothing more now but a scar.

For a few heartbeats, the eldest Pevensie didn't move. She dreaded going out of her bedchambers and descending that staircase. She dreaded going down to that entrance hall. She dreaded of having to see Peter again.

Or Caspian.

Not after what happened the night before.

She wondered for the umpteenth time how her life got so ridiculously complicated. She was just sixteen years old, for Aslan's sake! Why was this happening to her?

She took a deep breath and took Edmund's arm. "Let's go."

***

"Where are these siblings that I've heard so much about, Caspian?" King Lune of Archenland asked the black-haired King of Narnia brightly, putting a hand on the latter's shoulder.

"They should be right down any moment," Caspian replied, nodding towards the staircase on their right. He plastered a smile on his face, attempting to match the King of Archenland's cheerful expression but failed.

Caspian couldn't keep his nightmare out of his head. After waking from it at early dawn, he couldn't go back to sleep. He kept trying to convince himself that it was because of the dying Tree of Protection why the Witch got inside his head again. Without the Tree's power, the Witch's power becomes stronger and can now influence anything inside the barrier.

 _But the Tree was poisoned months ago,_ a tiny part of his brain suddenly said. _Why are you having these nightmares_ now? _Why is the Witch only telling you these things_ now?

"I'm really excited to meet Queen Susan," Lady Elizabeth said excitedly to Peter, her voice cutting through Caspian's thoughts like a knife which he was really grateful for. Because he wasn't sure he could answer those questions from that tiny and annoying part of his brain without going crazy.

"She's not a Queen, Beth," Peter replied, looking down at the redheaded lady beside him clutching his arm.

The dark shadows under Peter's eyes were more prominent than before, Caspian noticed. His blue eyes looked tired when he looked at the Lady of Archenland by his side. He looked like he didn't get any rest either. _Maybe the Witch was also giving him nightmares like mine,_ Caspian wondered _. To mess with our minds_ _and to drive us crazy._ Somehow, the thought comforted him. At least, the Witch was also telling Peter the exact same thing she was telling him, making all her words nothing but a bald-faced lie.

But why was he feeling dreadful? Why was he feeling like something was about to happen tonight? Something bad?

Again, Caspian had to mentally slap himself to stop his unpleasant thoughts. He couldn't afford to think about it. Not yet.

"She's about to become one, anyway," Elizabeth replied, waving off Peter's comment and giving Caspian a glance and a knowing smile, making him blush. "I hear she's very pretty."

"And skilled in combat," Prince Corin, who was standing beside his father, said enthusiastically. "We heard about what she did in the ambush at Lantern Waste."

"And that she's _excellent_ in archery," Elizabeth continued, almost gushing.

"Is it true that Lady Lucy first discovered Narnia through a-- what's it called-- a _War_ _Drobe_?" Corin added.

"But some say she's also good in swordfight," the Lady of Archenland said.

"Ooh, speaking of swordfight," Corin said excitedly. "I heard that Lord Edmund has become a very skilled swordfighter. Cor," he turned to his twin brother. "Do you think we can get him to have a friendly match with you? I bet he'll win." Corin grinned.

Caspian's and Peter's gazes met, eyebrows raised in surprise. The expression on their faces as they stared at each other read _Wow, can you believe these people?_

Prince Cor, who was at the other side of Lune, looked apologetically at the two Kings of Narnia. "We heard a lot about the siblings in Archenland," he said.

King Lune laughed, patting Cor's back slightly in agreement. "That we did."

"Well," Peter said, smiling at the royal family. "You're going to find out soon enough."

Then Elizabeth let out a loud gasp of awe. "She looks _beautiful_."

Caspian, Peter, and the rest turned to follow the Lady of Archenland's gaze.

Caspian had already seen Susan dressed up before. During his and Peter's birthday ball, she looked so breathtaking that the other ladies that night paled in comparison. Still, as she descended the staircase with Edmund and Lucy, it felt like Caspian was seeing her in a royal Narnian garb for the first time again, making everything else around him blur into the background and all he could see was her.

When the Pevensie siblings got to the bottom of the stairs, Caspian went over to them. He took a slight bow, glancing at Lucy first who giggled and curtsied then at Edmund who merely grinned as if telling him that _Yes_ _, I look dashing and I know it._ Then he offered his hand to Susan. "My Lady," he said.

"Your Majesty," she responded, smiling gently up at him as she took his hand and let go of Edmund's arm.

Introductions were made between the Pevensies and the Archenlanders. Lady Elizabeth released her grip from Peter's arm for a moment to make a proper curtsy to Susan, Edmund, and Lucy. Princes Cor and Corin kissed both Susan's and Lucy's hand then proceeded to chat with Edmund. King Lune inclined his head to the Pevensie in a slight bow. He would have made a proper one if he wasn't burdened by the amount of bulk he had accumulated for the past few decades.

As Elizabeth introduced herself to Susan, Caspian caught a glimpse of Peter. The blonde-haired King was talking with Cor, Corin, Edmund, and Lucy but Caspian noticed him stealing glances at Susan from time to time then immediately looking away. His gaze towards the Daughter of Eve was almost... tired and painful.

The Witch's words came back into Caspian's mind again. And despite of convincing himself that it was all a lie, his gut twisted slightly as he looked back and forth between Peter and Susan. Because, at that point, the Witch was right. They had... changed.

Ever since he came back from Lone Islands almost a week ago, he noticed that they weren't the same Peter and Susan he knew before he left. They rarely speak to each other outside of polite chatter during meals and even that almost felt like... forced. And they avoid to be in the same room with each other. Peter often took upon himself to remove himself from the group if Susan was there. And Susan would not join them if Peter was there.

Caspian wanted to talk to them about what happened while he was away but he couldn't find an opportunity to broach the subject. His mind would always bring him back to that field, at the two of them rolling, laughing, and kissing. He couldn't bring himself to ask the question because... what if his dreams were true?

He suddenly felt his chest twisting painfully.

Then a horn from inside the Great Hall blasted a sound followed by the fauns playing a jolly tune in their lutes to welcome them inside.

Susan went to his side, easing her hand into the crook of his elbow. "Shall we?"

For a moment, Caspian stared at her. With their faces only inches apart, he noticed that there were dark shadows under her eyes too, concealed by her make-up. He remembered that for the whole day, he didn't see her around the castle. He had almost went to her bedchambers to see if she was okay but hadn't, and he didn't know why.

_Tomorrow night, you'll know the truth. And you shall choose._

"We shall," he replied, smiling down at her.

As they headed inside the Great Hall, Caspian pretended he didn't see them share a short gaze.


	40. Pinings

Aslan was waiting for them by the thrones of the Kings of Narnia.

At the sight of the Great Lion, the Archenlanders staggered to a short stop before continuing to walk down towards Aslan with awe, amazement, and surprise on their faces. It was the first time they ever saw Aslan and he didn't fail to make them all afraid, shock, and speechless.

Elizabeth elicited a small squeak when she first laid her eyes on Aslan but Peter quickly reassured that, yes, even though Aslan was very dangerous and that he wasn't a tame lion, he hadn't killed innocent people yet so if Elizabeth has no plan, not even a _slightest_ part of a plan, to endanger Narnia, she was in no danger in becoming lion food. This made the Lady of Archenland laugh a little.

Susan, who was ahead of them, walking with her hand tucked into Caspian's left arm, resisted the urge to turn around to look at them partly because of Caspian and partly because Aslan had his cat eyes fixed intently on hers.

Before Susan met Lady Elizabeth of Archenland, she thought she'd immediately hate her. Despite of telling herself that she had no right to be jealous, she couldn't help but think over and over about the proposed marriage between Elizabeth and Peter years ago. Obviously, it had not gone through because if it had, surely Caspian or Peter himself would have already told her. But who knows what would happen now? Narnia is on a brink of another war. Peter and Caspian would need all the help they could get. And what would be a more better way to establish a permanent alliance with Archenland than to marry the niece of the King of Archenland to a King of Narnia? Everytime Susan thinks about it, she felt a twisting sensation in her gut that irritated her.

But when Susan met her just a few minutes ago, Elizabeth turned out to be really nice. She kept gushing about how she adored her and how she couldn't wait to meet her the minute she got Peter's invitation that it made very difficult for Susan to dislike her for clinging to Peter's arm tightly.

Susan's thoughts were cut short when they got to the foot of the stairs to the thrones. Edmund and Lucy went to Susan's other side. Peter and the Archenlanders proceeded to Caspian's other side. Then they all knelt before Aslan, with all their guests behind them following suit.

Susan glanced up at Aslan for a few seconds and found the Lion's cat eyes fixed on Caspian. His gaze to the King of Narnia was almost sad and full of pity, as if he was watching Caspian writhing painfully on the floor. Then he turned his gaze to the royal family of Archenland.

"Welcome, Lune, King of Archenland," Aslan spoke, his deep and powerful voice vibrating around the enormous Great Hall. "Welcome, Cor and Corin, Princes of Archenland. Welcome, Elizabeth, Lady of Archenland." Aslan faced the Great Hall. "Rise, Kings, Protectors, people and guests of Narnia."

As one, the Pevensie siblings, the Kings of Narnia, the Archenlanders and the attendees of the ball rose up to their feet.

"Your Grace," King Lune spoke. "It is an incredible honor to finally be acquainted to you."

"The honor is all mine, King Lune," Aslan answered. "I trust that you and your family are in good health?"

"Yes, we are, Aslan," the King of Archenland inclined his head in a slight bow.

Susan risked a glance at Cor, Corin, and Elizabeth. Corin had his jaw hanging slightly open. Cor was looking at Aslan, unblinking. Elizabeth's face was a little red as she stared up at the Lion.

"Excellent," the Lion said. His lips broke into a smile. "Welcome to Cair Paravel."

Aslan turned his attention back to the Great Hall. "We are here to celebrate the success of King Peter's diplomatic negotiations to Calormen and King Caspian's successful errand in Lone Islands. Yet again, they prove that they are the best rulers Narnia had ever seen these many centuries. Let no other things trouble you tonight. Enjoy yourselves. Let the feast begin."

As the crowd slowly dispersed, making their way to the buffet tables overflowing with food and drinks that lined both sides of the Hall, Susan saw Aslan giving Caspian another look, as if he was thinking what flowers to lay on the black-haired King's grave.

***

"My Lady," Caspian asked Susan, right hand outstretched and a polite smile etched on his face. "Can I have this dance?"

Susan looked up, having just watched a certain blonde haired King twirling a redhead in his arms. Seeing Caspian towering over her and asking for a dance, didn't surprise her at all. If anything, she was expecting it, after her refusal to his same request during his birthday which seemed like years ago.

"What if I say no?" she responded, eyebrows raised playfully.

"Well," Caspian looked up, pretending to think. He matched her playful voice with his own. "I seem to remember you making a promise to dance with me once I get back from Lone Islands. You don't want to break a promise, don't you?" He smirked at her.

Susan looked down at Caspian's outstretched hand, her smile ebbing away slightly. She knew what would happen once she'd take that hand. She knew what would happen once they'd go under that enormous chandelier as sure as she was that Caspian would ask her to dance.

Nevertheless, she took his hand. After all, she never breaks a promise.

Peter's face flashed into her mind. _We swore, remember? We would face the consequence together. We promised._

"I wasn't planning to," Susan smiled up at Caspian as she took his hand. As if on cue, the fauns changed the tune they were playing to an even more slower one.

Caspian lead Susan to the center of the Great Hall, right underneath the glimmer of the enormous chandelier, where she first had a change of heart three months ago.

***

"I still can't believe--" Elizabeth gushed as she headed to the dining table where they had dinner hours ago and took a goblet of water. "--that I met Aslan. I still have goosebumps."

Peter merely smiled behind her. His feet was starting to ache even though they only spend a few minutes dancing. Another reason why he wasn't fond of dancing because his feet were a couple of wusses.

"Why is he here?" Elizabeth asked. "I thought he only comes to Narnia unless absolutely necessary. At least, that's what I read." She was looking at him shyly as if embarrassed that all she knew from Aslan came from books. Peter found it cute.

"You're right. But, lately, he comes and goes more often." the King of Narnia replied, trying hard not to wince as he took a final step to the table. "He was here on my birthday months ago."

"Well, it must be because of the new Great Prophecy." Elizabeth said.

"Must be." Peter replied, picking up a goblet of clear water and drinking it down in one gulp. He winced as he put pressure on his right foot.

"Peter, are you alright?" the red-haired Lady of Archenland asked worriedly, noticing the slight twist in pain on the King of Narnia's face.

Peter snorted, turning to one of the high-backed cushioned chairs and heaving himself into it. "I've been through worse, Beth, trust me. Don't worry, it's just my ankle."

"Oh, I forgot. You don't like dancing. I'm sorry." Elizabeth said apologetically.

Peter laughed, waving a hand off. "It's fine, really. My ankle will live through it." He took a glass of red wine and took a small sip from it.

Elizabeth turned her attention to the dance floor.

"They look great together," she said.

Peter followed her gaze and caught sight of Caspian and Susan, swaying in time with the slow tune played by the fauns. He watched as his brother whisper something into the Daughter of Eve's ear which made her laugh.

The garden from the night before flashed into Peter's mind. His lips tingled slightly then a clenching feeling in his chest surfaced. His grip on his glass of wine tightened a bit as he shook of the clenching sensation.

He looked away from the happy couple. "I suppose," he tried to answer carelessly, as if he wasn't fighting the urge to leave the Hall at once and head down to the beach and scream his lungs out. 

"They're definitely going to end up married," Elizabeth added. "Don't you think?"

Something climbed into Peter's throat that almost felt like an outgoing snappish remark but held it back. What did Elizabeth think he'd been thinking for the past few weeks except _that_?

"I don't know," he answered, pretending to be nonchalant. He took another sip from his glass, a bit bigger than the first. "Maybe."

Reluctantly, he turned to look again at Caspian and Susan. Caspian twirled her under his arms then pulled her closer, even closer than before. Susan laughed at his action then leaned her head against his shoulder. Caspian placed his cheek against her head.

Looking away, Peter downed the remaining contents of his wine glass. Then he scanned the long table in front of him for another glass of red wine. He chased away the sudden flashback in his mind about his own dance under that same chandelier many months ago with the same girl now happily dancing in his brother's arms.

"You love her."

When Peter turned to look at Elizabeth, her face was emotionless. He didn't respond. He merely looked at her, knowing that his own expression matched hers.

"Don't you?" Elizabeth added. A small smile lightly played on her lips.

"I--" he started, his fingers around the stem of his wine glass seemed to freeze. His brain seemed to scramble for a denial but it seemed to have froze too. He continued to stare back at Elizabeth, as if she had just spoken in an alien language.

"I know. I see the way you look at her." Elizabeth said gently, looking away from him and back to the dance floor. Before her gaze landed again on Susan and Caspian, she saw Corin and Lucy dancing. "You don't know how many times I wished you would look at me the same way." she added, murmuring, as she looked wistfully at Caspian and Susan.

Peter heard her perfectly, despite the sound of the lutes. He didn't know how to respond. He knew Elizabeth has feelings for him. She told him so after the proposal for a marriage arrangement between him and her were raised by her uncle, King Lune. Peter had almost went through with it because it would mean a permanent alliance with Archenland and Elizabeth had become one of his best friends. But when he knew that Elizabeth actually loved him, he didn't. True, Peter would have learned to love her over time but she deserved to love and marry someone who wants to marry her and love her for who she was, not because of an arranged marriage. Elizabeth was one of the kindest and purest people Peter knew. She deserved someone... _better_ than him.

"Did it ever occur to you to-- I don't know--" Elizabeth said, looking back at him. "Fight for her?"

Peter didn't respond for few heartbeats. Because how could he when there are million answers running into his mind about how he would give anything for that Daughter of Eve? He would die for. He would go to the end of the world for her. He would give up his throne and go back with her to her world if that is what she wanted. But how could he fight for her when she wouldn't even there if he'd win?

He looked back again at his brother and the girl who was breaking his heart. His vision was slowly going blurry and he convinced himself it was because of the wine and nothing else. "She doesn't want me to." he replied.

Elizabeth didn't answer. She studied the blonde-haired King she loved for all these time. She looked at him as he looked at Susan Pevensie, his face sad and heartbroken. She and Peter had known each other way back before he had become King of Narnia and yet, he fell hard for a girl he had only known for a few month.

Elizabeth wanted to hate Susan Pevensie, to loathe her for making Peter fall in love her, to hate her for what she did. But she just... couldn't. She couldn't find it in her heart to hate Susan Pevensie because all she ever did was... just _be_ Susan Pevensie.

Peter and Elizabeth remained in silence as they continued to watch Caspian and Susan having the time of their lives.

When they kissed just as the fauns' music ended, Peter looked away and brought his glass, filled top to the brim with wine, to his lips and knocked the whole content down his throat in one single gulp.


	41. Hurts

"You look beautiful tonight, Su," Caspian said as he swayed himself and Susan along with the fauns' music.

"Thank you," Susan replied and etched a smile on her lips, although her mind wasn't in on it. Caspian had just called her by her nickname, the same nickname she was always sensitive about. And yet, it didn't brought any emotions from her. It didn't send goosebumps up her arms or make her shiver. She mentally shook her head, clearing it all of inappropriate thoughts. "You look handsome, too."

"Oh," Caspian smirked, twirling her around under his arms. "I was hoping to attract the attention of a certain Daughter of Eve, you see."

"Really?" Susan responded, her voice matching her partner's playful tone. "And did you?"

"Well, since she's dancing with me, I'd like to think I succeeded."

Susan chuckled although the comment made her a bit uncomfortable. She couldn't help but wonder what happened to her. Why was she suddenly like this? Caspian's compliments always made her fee like a thousand butterflies were tapdancing in her stomach. But now, at that moment in his arms, why was she suddenly felt like running away? To just leave that Great Hall and run to the shore and question her life choices? To just scream out her feelings?

But she knew she shouldn't leave. She couldn'tleave. Because she loved Caspian. She really do. Even though he didn't send a jolt of electricity up her spine when he called her by her nickname unlike a certain blonde-haired person, she loved him.

And, besides, hadn't she already decided? She already chose him over the said blonde-haired person, for heaven's sake!Hadn't she already decided to forget everything that happened for the last couple of months?Hadn't she already convinced herself that what she was doing was right?

But was she seeking more of that kiss that kept her up all night?

Susan gritted her teeth and refocused her attention to the present. She stared up to meet Caspian's eyes, glittering mischievously. His chocolate brown eyes somehow calmed her whirlwind of a brain. "You sound so confident. Don't you think I am only doing this because I feel guilty I denied you a dance during your birthday?"

Caspian froze momentarily at her words, his hand almost slipping from Susan's back. He could feel the smile slowly disappearing from his lips as he thought about what she said.

Why did he get the feeling that Susan _meant_ it? Why could he see in her eyes the confirmation about all of the things that drove him crazy ever since the Witch showed him that field?

But then Susan's lips cracked into a small smile. Her hazel blue eyes suddenly shone with amusement and she let out a low laugh. And it seemed like a huge weight was taken off his shoulders.

 _The Witch is making you crazy, Caspian_ , he thought.

"Do you?" he took the lead of their dance again, swaying slowly.

"Maybe," she smirked playfully, shrugging.

"Don't worry," he assured her, winking. "I'll show you my amazing dance skills and you'll be dancing with me out of liking in no time." He grinned.

"I already told you, I'm not a fan of dancing, Your Majesty."

"Eh, you're saying that now. Just wait and see how I waltz _perfectly_."

Susan couldn't help but laugh at that. She had to admit that she missed this. How she and Caspian easily talk and banter with each other comfortably. That was the reason she liked him in the first place. Because he showed her that she could actually be comfortable with a person from the opposite gender. Aslan knows how she was very crappy at that back in England.

Seeing her laugh like that, her face glowing with merriment, made her more beautiful in Caspian's eyes. She was always like that everytime she was with him. As if being with him really makes her comfortable and happy. And in that moment, that vision in the field the Witch plagued him for almost a month felt like nothing more than a nightmare only and seemed like so far away and so... impossible.

_Tomorrow night, you will know the truth, and you shall choose._

Caspian twirled her around then jerked her slightly towards him, pulling her closer. Susan laughed lowly at his actions. Then she leaned her head to his chest as she continued to sway with the music to his lead. Heartbeat racing, he leaned his cheek to her head.

"Su--" He could feel his hands slowly going sweaty at the thought of what he was about to do next. "During those two months away, all I've been thinking about is you. I couldn't wait to get home so that I'd get to be with you again. You don't how many times I wished for time to pass quickly so that I'd see you again."

She looled up at him. Locked in his piercing gaze, Susan's heartbeat sped up that she was sure he could feel it through their many layers of clothing. Slowly, she could feel her knees shaking beneath her. If it wasn't for Caspian supporting mostly of her weight, she would have collapsed then and there.

She knew what he was going to do. Oh, yes, she did.

"Susan, I--" he hesitated. He wanted to tell her what he had seen in his nightmares, about her and Peter. He wanted to ask her whether it had really happened or not. He wanted to pour out everything that had been troubling him for the last few weeks, including his silly suspicions about her and his brother. But his brain seemed to short circuit while trying to catch up with all the things he wanted to say. "I already told you I love you. How about you?"

Something lodged itself in Susan's throat. Her breath hitched. She was vaguely of all the people dancing around her and Caspian, vaguely aware that both of her hands were shaking and that Caspian probably felt it, too. All she knew was that her brain was short circuiting, trying to find a response to his confession.

Caspian stopped their movements. His gaze on her was unwavering. "Do you love me too?" he asked.

Didn't she already prepared for this? Wasn't this the reason why she severed everything with Peter so that when this moment comes, she wouldn't hesitate to say the four letter word? So why couldn't she get it out of her lips? Why couldn't she say it as easily as she had said it to Peter?

"I--" she started.

Caspian was the first person that made her feel different. Like she wasn't just an insufferable know-it-all with a logical mind and stubborn personality. He was the first person, aside from her siblings, that made her feel like she mattered ever since she bacame an orphan. And she loved him for that. She really do.

Then why the bloody hell was she still hesitating to tell him she love him too?

Susan stared back into Caspian's brown eyes, not quite sure what to say and what to do.

Before she knew it, she was leaning up to him. She ran her fingers on the back of his head, curling it in his black hair. She pulled him down close and she kissed him.

***

Most of the couples close to Susan and Caspian on the dance floor stopped their dance and gawked at them. The guests that were on the sidelines, merely witnessing the dance, gushed and murmured to each other excitedly at the scene unfolding in front of them. It seemed almost half of the Great Hall had their eyes on the couple kissing underneath the massive chandelier but Peter was busy grabbing the nearest few glasses of wine on the dinner table in front him and chugging them down one by one in his throat with a single gulp.

It was the first time he drank that amount of wine, and _pure_ wine at that. He immediately felt dizzy, his vision slowly going in circles. He felt a stabbing sensation in his throat. But he didn't care.

He didn't turn his head around. He could vaguely hear the adoring _oohs_ and _aahs_ , giggles, and whispers of the onlookers. It was drowned out by the piercing scream in his mind and the loud breaking of his heart. Just when he thought that nothing was more painful than that night in Susan's balcony, and now _this_.

Elizabeth looked at the blonde-haired King beside her. With only an arm-stretch away, she could feel the agony radiating from him. She could feel his pain in his every gulp of wine.

 _If only you could love me the way you love Susan_ _Pevensie_ _,_ she thought as she looked back at King Caspian of Narnia and the Daughter of Eve from another world. _I_ _would never hurt you._

Elizabeth wanted to comfort him, put an arm around him, kiss away the pain. But she knew it would be useless.

"You can always leave, you know," Elizabeth said softly. "I'll cover you."

"No," Peter answered, his face scrunched up with the taste of the wine. His head started to pound slightly. "This is what she wants. She wants us to pretend that--" he trailed off. "No, I'm not leaving."

He turned his head forcibly back to their direction.

Then he met her hazel blue eyes. They were glistening with tears.

***

Edmund and Cor were talking about Archenland when Caspian and Susan kissed in the middle of the dance floor.

Edmund's first instinct was to look away. He always found gooey scenes like this... well, gooey. That was why, back in England, he tried to avoid novels as much as possible. There was a time in his Literature class when he had to write a review on _Romeo and Juliet_ and he bribed Susan to do it for him. He wasn't big on romantic stuff. That was why he really couldn't care less about boys in Susan's life (Lucy was still too young to have suitors so he didn't really have anything to care less with.) Of course, if Susan got hurt because of the said boys, that was another story because he sure wouldn't hesitate in kicking their butts.

But then, when the implication dawned on him about the said scene in front of him, Edmund couldn't help his eyebrows from raising, wondering what in the name of Aslan his sister was playing with. He was barely aware of Cor saying something beside him.

(He didn't really understand why he was suddenly like this now, immersed and curious about his sister's relationships, like a _girl_. It must be Lucy. She was rubbing off on him.)

Last night, when he saw Peter and Susan and everything that happened after, he had thought then that Lucy was right. That Peter and Susan indeed fell for each othe after hating each other for months. And what he saw last night was merely a fight between the two, probably because of Caspian and his return and what it might meant about the relationship they had. Although there were bits and pieces that he didn't understand, he left them at it, thinking that maybe Susan would enlighten him with the truth the next day.

When Edmund went to Susan's bedchambers earlier that night to escort her down to the entrance hall, he didn't know what to think. He didn't tell her that he saw her and Peter the night before because she might break. She looked exhausted already and he didn't want to add to it. But still... Edmund had wondered why his sister would want to be with Peter when she obviously liked Caspian too. Before the black-haired King left for Lone Islands, they had been almost inseparable. He even thought that Caspian was already officially courting his sister (and he might have been a bit mad at the King because he didn't ask his permission first as a formality, or as Narnian customs state.). So why was she with Peter?

But now, looking at this scene unfolding in front of him, he was confused even more. The puzzle that he had been trying to figure out since last night seemed to lose even more pieces.

(Gah. It was definitely because of Lucy, Edmund thought. If that girl didn't make him her go-to guy everytime she'd sound her suspicions between Susan and the two Kings of Narnia, he wouldn't be acting like this, having his nose on the three's personal business.)

"Edmund?" Cor's voice shook him awake. "Did you hear what I said?"

Edmund blinked, focusing his attention back to the Prince of Archenland.

He needed to tell someone to enlighten him. He wasn't used to this situation and he need someone who could explain whatever this is.

Lucy.

It was a ridiculous and frightening idea for Edmund, having to confide to her younger sister about this particular subject. But if there was anyone who could have the slightest idea about it, it would be his baby sister.

"I'm terribly sorry, Cor, but could you excuse me? I need to find my sister, Lucy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's really difficult and fun writing Edmund's POV about love and relationships. Of course, in the books, C.S. Lewis didn't really portray him as such. But from the various books I read with annoying little brother characters (and, also, from my own personal experience) , they're almost always like this. And I love writing Edmund as a sassy little blighter. :)


	42. Unrequited

Susan had always heard (or read) that a kiss can convey a lot of things. Even if it was just a light peck on the lips, one could easily and immediately tell if he or she felt a certain... _something_ with the other. It was like he or she was blind and stumbling the whole time but with that kiss... everything cleared. Like he or she was given a pair of glasses and everything became vivid, exploding with colors. It was like he or she had been living a life on an unsteady ground, constantly feeling like everything was a chaotic mess but with that kiss... everything else calmed. Everything made sense.

But as Susan kissed Caspian, the boy she fell for from the very first time she met him, the boy who swept her off her feet with his warmth, kindness, and alluring brown eyes, there was nothing.

There were no rapid jolts of electricity short-circuiting her system. There were no erratic heartbeats in her chest and out of control butterflies in her stomach. There were no goosebumps and shivers frying up her nerve-endings.

Unlike what she felt on that one sunny afternoon, beneath the glare of the afternoon sun, on the outskirts of the forest.

Tears sprang under Susan's closed eyes and fell down her cheeks as Caspian moved his lips together with hers.

She willed the hand that was resting on Caspian's shoulder not to clench.

But she knew it wouldn't matter anymore. The realization that her feelings for Caspian were not enough for her to feel something as she shared her first kiss with him was useless now. Because she had already chosen. And no matter how she chose wrong, (though she had already known it the moment she had chosen) she was not a lady who takes back her word. Even if this particular decision costs her herself.

More tears fell and she was sure that a small sob broke out from her throat.

Caspian's chocolate brown eyes looked unfocused when they drew apart. His face was flush and he looked at her with a dazed expression.

Susan, without meaning to, looked over Caspian's shoulder. Her vision was still blurry with tears clouding her line of sight. But as her eyes met his sky blue irises, her vision cleared.

She could see him through his eyes, broken and in pain.

She was sure she was feeling broken, too.

Peter broke their gaze and turned back around to the table behind him, reaching for something she couldn't quite clearly see. Half a second later, she saw him knocked back his head as he downed a glass of wine. Elizabeth was beside him.

Susan looked away.

Her skin tingled when fingertips glided across her cheeks. Caspian wiped the tears that escaped her eyes. When she looked up at him, she knew he perceived the opposite of the meaning of those tears to Susan. She wished they meant that way too and not the way they seemed to convey the shattering sensation in her gut.

Susan closed her eyes and leaned her cheeks to Caspian's palm, seeking comfort and apologizing.

Apologizing that it was _Peter_ and it would _always_ be Peter.

Behind her closed eyelids, she still could see a pair of startling blue eyes looking back at her.

***

She kissed him.

_She kissed him._

Caspian felt lightheaded as he led Susan back to the table where they had their dinner a few hours ago. His lips still tingled and it took a lot of willpower not to touch them with his fingertips. A smile was etched on his face and he couldn't seem to be able to wipe it away. Though, he didn't try to.

Caspian had never felt happier. The feeling he got when he was crowned King of Narnia paled in comparison to what he felt at that moment. His head was buzzing and his chest felt light. When his mind involuntarily brought him back to that nightmare the night before, he didn't even feel a bit troubled. The smile on his lips was stubborn and unmoving.

Cor and Corin were by the table along with Peter and Elizabeth as Caspian and Susan came. Corin was grinning at Caspian while his twin brother only smiled. Cor was always the serious one of the twins and Caspian had long since got used to his measured smiles. Beside them, Elizabeth was smiling gracefully but Caspian caught her grey eyes darting half a second to Peter beside her, who was half-turned towards the table and had his right hand cradling a glass half-full with red wine. It was then that the black-haired King of Narnia noticed that the Lady of Archenland's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. If it was because she was too distracted by Peter's presence by her side or otherwise, Caspian didn't know. His brain was still rebooting.

As Caspian and Susan reached the table, Corin, still grinning, gave Cor a punch on the shoulder. The younger twin didn't flinch at the contact and only rolled his eyes and shake his head slightly in annoyance and disbelief.

"Corin," Caspian said. "Why did you punch your brother?"

"We had an agreement, Your Majesty, that I get to punch him if I am correct in thinking that you--"

"It's not an agreement, brother mine, if I didn't agree." Cor interrupted him. "And there is no point talking about it anymore now that you have already hit me. If I'm not mistaken, that was the whole point of this all, am I right?"

Corin grinned even more and shrugged. Caspian shook his head in amusement as he turned to look at Susan beside him. When she looked up at him, her hazel blue eyes were no longer clouded with tears and she was smiling at him, matching his amusement.

Cor approached them and made a bow. "My Lady," he spoke. "If you are not weary, can I have this next dance? That is," the Prince turned to Caspian. "If that is alright with you, Your Majesty?"

Caspian smiled at Cor and motioned to Susan. "If it's alright with her then I don't have much say on the matter, Prince Cor." he said lightly.

Susan gave him a glare then smiled at Cor. "I would be honored, My Prince." She let go of Caspian's hand then took Cor's. Before they could walk towards the dance floor, Susan's eyes darted around the table. "Has anyone seen Edmund and Lucy?" she asked.

"I'm afraid I haven't seen Lady Lucy after our dance, My Lady." Corin answered, plucking an apple from the bowl of fruits on the table.

"And Edmund excused himself from our conversation earlier to look for her, My Lady." Cor added.

"Oh." Susan nodded, her eyes then rove to the dance floor. "I see. Where are those two?"

Caspian touched her arm reassuringly. "I'll look for them. Besides," he said. "I want to talk to Edmund about... something." His cheeks warmed at the thought and he wished Susan didn't notice him going red.

The Daughter of Eve raised her eyebrow. "About what?"

"I--" Caspian trailed off, looking at her almost sheepishly. "I want to ask his permission to court you. Formally."

Susan stared at him for half a srcond before chuckling in amusement. Her hazel eyes darted for a moment to Cor, who was standing beside her patiently, then back at Caspian. "He's my _younger_ brother, Caspian. You don't need his permission."

"I know. But still..."

Susan shook her head adorably, smiling. "If that's what you want. You know he'll only laugh and tease you, right?"

"Oh, I'm sure of that, My Lady."

"Okay. Good luck." Susan said, the smile still etched on her full lips. She looked at Cor. "Shall we, Your Highness?"

The Prince of Archenland nodded then led her to the dance floor. The eldest Pevensie gave Caspian a last look and a smile before she followed Cor's lead.

Caspian's nerves slowly calmed now that he was no longer in close vicinity with Susan. He turned around towards the direction of the table and was greeted by Peter who had stood up from the chair he occupied and was slowly making his way towards him. His blue eyes were wide and alert and his face was slightly red, probably because of the large amount of wine he had consumed judging by the empty wine glasses on the table.

The thought of Peter and Susan flashed into Caspian's mind and, for a moment, his elation from the kiss dwindled a little.

But Peter was grinning widely at him, and his blue eyes, slightly bloodshot, were alight with humor. "You surely know how to make a scene, brother mine," Peter said, eyebrows raised playfully.

Caspian shrugged at that because he didn't how to respond. And also because he was studying his twin brother's face. For a sign of what, Caspian had no idea.

Peter's wide grin morphed into a sincere smile as he grasped his shoulder. "I'm happy for you."

Caspian looked into Peter's shocking blue eyes which conveyed no lie. Immediately, he felt guilty. He felt disgusted with himself. How could he ever, even for a second, believe what the Witch had shown him? How could he ever believe that his brother would hurt him? How could he ever believe that Peter would deceive him when Caspian knew his twin would always _always_ have his back?

 _It's that wretched Witch,_ Caspian thought angrily. _It's her and her poisonous thoughts._

_Tomorrow night,_ _you will know the truth, and you shall choose._

Caspian mentally shook his head hard and willed his mind to the present. Never again should he give the Witch and the visions a second thought. Never again should he doubt everything that he has now. Later, after he'd find Edmund, he would go to Aslan and ask for strength. Strength to resist the Witch's illusions in his head.

"Thank you, Pete." Caspian said to his twin, patting his shoulder affectionately.

Peter nodded simply and smiled.

"Have you received any news from our sentinels on the borders? Any activities? Caspian asked.

The blonde-haired King shook his head. "None. All is quiet. But I told them to keep a keen eye still."

Caspian nodded, feeling relieved. Then again, he thought. It had also been very quiet around the borders before Susan and her Dwarf companions got ambushed in Lantern Waste months ago. Then he scolded himself mentally for thinking such dark things.

Peter went back to his chair beside Elizabeth. Caspian saw the redheaded Lady of Archenland give Peter another one of her sad gazes again but Peter didn't seem to notice.

As he made his leave of Corin, Elizabeth, and Peter to look for Edmund, Caspian felt sorry for Elizabeth. He knew it must be hard to fall for someone who doesn't feel the same way back.


	43. Riddles

"King Caspian," an oily voice spoke behind the black-haired King as he made his way behind a column, bent on looking for the two younger Pevensies. "Enjoying the party?"

Caspian turned around and saw Prince Rabadash of Calormen, leaning against the said column and holding a glass of wine. He sipped casually from it and grinned at Caspian, looking like he owned Cair Paravel.

Had Caspian mentioned before how he _disliked_ Prince Rabadash of Calormen?

"Yes, actually, Your Highness," Caspian said, etching a smile on his face even though his lips twitched in protest. It would not do to have his distate towards the Prince show. Peter had worked hard to finally and officially seal peace with Calormen and Caspian wouldn't want it to go in vain. "How about you?"

"Never better, thank you for asking." Rabadash then took another sip from his glass of wine. "It's nice of you and King Peter to invite me here tonight after my... _behavior_ last time. I'm sure, His Majesty told you about it?" The words _His Majesty_ came out almost like a mock and Caspian's hands clenched involuntarily.

Rabadash's aversion of Peter was always known to Caspian. He knew it was mainly because Peter had always been better at him at combat and Rabadash was too arrogant to accept it. No matter how many times he had challenged Peter to a single combat at every tournament there was for the whole two years of Caspian and Peter's reign, he still couldn't win. But it was also because the Prince had taken interest with the Lady Elizabeth of Archenland but his marriage proposals had all been denied because the Elizabeth fancied Peter.

Caspian knew that Rabadash disliked him, too. But with Peter, his aversion was bordering on hate.

"Do you mean your harsh words about Narnia?" Caspian asked.

The Prince bowed his head. "My sincere apologies for that, Your Highness. I was intoxicated and wasn't myself."

"Will you also apologize for your behavior towards the Lady Susan?"

Rabadash looked at him, his black eyes piercing. Then he raised an eyebrow, an arrogant look making its way to his face. "Of course, he'd tell you about that."

Caspian was about to tell him that it was Susan herself who told him about his drunken behavior towards her, but the Prince's arrogant expression and smirk confused and stilled him for a few seconds. "What do you mean?"

Rabadash tilted his turbanned head, his eyebrow raising even more. "Do you not see it?"

"See what?"

Then the Prince laughed. He downed the remaining contents of the wine glass he was holding then wiped a fist across his lips. "You will see it soon enough, Your Highness." He placed the empty glass on the table near him. "I see that you got the girl." He said, motioning towards the dance floor where they could see Susan dancing with Cor.

Caspian's thoughts were reeling with the Prince's insinuating words but as the latter ones left his mouth, the King of Narnia felt a flash of irritation. He spoke as if Susan was merely a _something_ one could easily get.

The King of Narnia breathed deeply to bite back the angry words that were surfacing in his throat. He didn't respond to the Prince.

Rabadash turned his attention from the dance floor to Caspian. "I'd keep her close, if I were you, Your Majesty," he said, that arrogant smirk of his plastered lightly on his face once again.

Caspian flashed him a smile of his own. "Lady Susan had survived an ambush with only a scar on her arm. She doesn't need my protection. But I'll keep that in mind, Your Highness."

"Oh, I heard, My King. But I didn't mean that kind of protection."

"Then what do you mean, may I ask?"

The Prince only laughed then ignored his question, shaking his head. When he looked back again at Caspian, his grin slowly disappeared from his face but his black eyes still danced with mirth. Then he turned back once again to the dance floor. "It looks like not all of the audience cooed at that romantic scene of yours."

Caspian was now very irritated at the Prince and his words. But again, still, he rein in his desire to walk out then and there by thinking of Peter and the peace treaty even though he wanted to shake Rabadash by his shoulders and demand where in Aslan's mane was he heading with this pointless conversation of theirs. "Let me guess, you?" he couldn't stop himself from saying.

Rabadash didn't seem to mind that Caspian's polite manners had slipped. "No. Not me, Your Majesty."

"I'm tired of figuring out your riddles, Prince Rabadash." Caspian stated.

The Prince of Archenland fixed him with his gaze for a few seconds, his dark complexion showing no emotions. Then he shook his head lightly. "Love has truly blinded you, King Caspian." Rabadash tilted his head in a bow. "By your leave." Then the Prince turned around and walked away from Caspian.

Caspian's thoughts swirled with Rabadash's parting words. The Witch's vision flashed in his head once again and he shook them off forcefully.

 _No_ , he thought, fighting off the stubborn mental images as he continued his search of Edmund and Lucy. _No, no, no, no._ _Not true. Impossible_.

He was too occupied with his thoughts that he almost didn't see, among the heads of the guests and the couples dancing in the middle of the Hall, Edmund and Lucy slipping out of the doors of the Great Hall to the entrance hall.

Caspian shut his eyes tight and chased away the unwilling thoughts surfacing in his brain. He made a mental note that the next time he'd see that snivelling weasel of a Prince, he'd punch him.

Then he made his way out of the Great Hall following the two younger Pevensies, acknowledging the greetings and curtsies of the guests along the way.

***

"By Jove!" Lucy said, running down the flight of stairs from Cair's double oak front doors towards the courtyard. In the middle, the Tree of Protection stood, the ground below it littered with dead leaves. "Did you see what they just did back there?"

"They weren't really that hard to miss, Lu." Edmund mumbled to his sister, his mind preoccupied on how to broach the uncomfortable subject about their elder sister.

"I know, I know." Lucy rolled her eyes, knowing full well about Edmund's discomfort when it comes to love and romance. She silently wished again that her brother would finally _finally_ grow up. "So what did you bring me out here for?" she asked.

Edmund didn't answer. For a few heartbeats, he merely stared at his younger sister. He noticed (not the first time) that her brown hair, only sweeping past her ears when they first got into Narnia, was now shoulder length and that there were now few freckles dotting her nose. It wasn't the first time Edmund marveled how he and his siblings had changed so much in only a few months in this country.

His mouth was half-open, ready to talk to Lucy, but his words didn't come. He didn't know what to say. How could he talk about something that was confusing to him? Not to mention the nagging probability and the resulting embarassment that Lucy might make fun of him. Because boys don't talk about gooey stuff, do they? His eyes strayed towards the two centaurs flanking the front doors of Cair Paravel, standing sentry. The two creatures were silent and were looking straight ahead, their hands on the swords sheathed on their either sides.

Lucy fixed her gaze at the Tree of Protection. Her expression immediately saddened at the sight of the dying tree. "Do you think there's still hope for a cure?"

Edmund followed her gaze up to the tree. His gut clenched involuntarily, momentarily forgetting about the reason why he brought Lucy out there in the first place. The magical tree, the source of the supposedly magical barrier around the country to protect it from the White Witch, was now nothing more than just a dying apple tree. There were barely any leaves hanging above their heads now.

Edmund knew it was already pointless to hope for a cure. The nature spirits had been trying to come up with one for the past few months now. If there was a cure, surely they would have got it by now. If Aslan knew of a way to save the tree, Edmund didn't know. As far as he knew, neither Peter nor Caspian had told the Lion about the tree yet because after Aslan's short speech before the ball, he had disappeared.

But Edmund knew Aslan somehow already knew about it. Because he's _Aslan_. As to what they have to do to save it, the Lion didn't say yet.

 _No_ , Edmund thought as he tore his gaze away from the tree. _Their only hope now is the prophecy_.

"Lu--" Edmund clutched Lucy's arm and steered her to the other side of the tree. He turned their backs to it and away from the view of Cair's front doors. "I think you're right." he started.

Lucy's eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "What?"

"Susan and Peter."

The youngest Pevensie narrowed her eyes at her elder brother's expression. "What about them? What are you talking about?"

Edmund ran a hand through his black locks in exasperation. "I don't know."

"Okay, brother..." Lucy said. "You need to be more _clear_ , alright? What are you on about?"

Edmund heaved a breath. Who knew it would be this ridiculously hard to broach a subject about his elder sister's romantic entanglements to his baby sister? It was bloody horrifying. "Last night..." he started slowly. "I saw them in the garden."

"Pete and Su?" Lucy clarified.

Edmund nodded. "Yes. I saw him kissed her."


	44. Fistfights

Cor escorted Susan to their table once their dance ended. The Prince of Archenland bowed before the eldest Pevensie before taking her leave and went to his twin brother and Elizabeth a few distance from her. Peter was with them.

Susan immediately felt dizzy. She wasn't sure if it was from the two consecutive dances she just had or that when she got to the table she met Peter's gaze but he immediately looked away, as if he had just looked at her merely in passing, and continued to talk inimatedly to Elizabeth and Corin. She spotted a glass full of red wine and she picked it up, taking two sips. Her nerve-endings immediately buzzed awake.

"Lady Susan," a voice behind Susan spoke. She turned around and was greeted by a grey-eyed man, barely wrinkled enough to be called old, with golden blond hair reaching his shoulder and a beard matching it. He had no other jewelries except the gold ring with a large ruby on his left hand which was resting on the hilt of his sword.

King Lune of Archenland.

"We didn't get much chance to be more acquainted with each other earlier," the King said. "May I say, My Lady, that it is a pleasure to meet you?" He tilted his head in a bow.

Susan straightened up on her feet and curtsied. "The pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty."

King Lune beamed at her and gestured for her to sit. He took the high-backed chair beside her and sat down.

"We have heard a lot about you and your siblings in Archenland, My Lady." he spoke.

"Indeed, Your Highness?"

"Indeed." the King nodded. He gestured to his twin sons who were still talking with Peter and Elizabeth. Corin was grinning, talking rather energetically, his arms flailing on either side of him. Cor was being himself, that is behaved, but a light smile was playing on his lips. "Even before we got invited to this ball, Corin and Elizabeth were practically begging me to come to Cair Paravel so that they could meet you three." He chuckled.

"But not Cor?"

"Cor was every bit as eager to meet you as Corin, My Lady. Only he didn't bug me consistently on the matter as much as his twin."

Susan nodded. She knew Cor was the serious one of the twins.

"Did you know, My Lady, that when I first saw Cor in Anvard, when King Peter brought him, I really thought I was seeing a ghost?" King Lune fixed her with his grey-eyed gaze.

"Pray tell, Your Majesty."

"When Cor disappeared from Anvard all those years ago, I refused to believe that he was dead because there was no body found. But," the King paused for a few heartbeats. "Year after year with him gone, I had lost all faith. It was difficult to hold out hope when everytime I see Corin grow, it reminded me that his twin isn't there growing with him."

The two of them were silent for a few heartbeats after that. King Lune was looking again at his sons, but mostly at Cor. Susan didn't offer words of her own to break the silence because she knew the King, even after two years of being reunited with long lost son, was still in disbelief that he was in his arms once again.

"And since then," King Lune turned his attention once again to Susan, smiling. "I owe King Peter a life debt."

"That's why your family and his are close," Susan said.

King Lune nodded. "Of course, I knew him and Caspian even before they led the rebellion against the White Witch and became Kings, before I knew they were the ones the Great Prophecy spoke of that will defeat Jadis. Though, not that well. I never met them when they resided with the Hermit on the borders of Archenland."

Susan knew this story because Caspian had told her and her siblings about it. Five hundred years into the Witch's reign, she had found out that the Great Prophecy foretelling the two boys that would bring about her downfall was Peter and Caspian. She immediately sent her army of wolves to kill them but they managed to escape. The family of Talking Beasts and Dwarves that took care of them after their father died a few years before that were slaughtered. Peter and Caspian were about twelve at that time. They flee from Narnia and came to Archenland where they met a hermit who afterwards they discovered was a friend of King Lune. The Witch's wolves didn't manage to track them because of the protective barrier the hermit had around his house.

Nobody knew they were there, except the hermit, King Lune, Corin (who was about seven at that time) and Elizabeth. Corin and Elizabeth saw them numerous times during their years with the hermit (because he was their tutor) but King Lune never did. Though none of them knew, except the hermit, that they were the ones in the Great Prophecy.

"It wasn't until King Peter brought me Cor in Anvard that I first met him." King Lune said. "And a few months later, when Cair Paravel hosted a tournament, I met Caspian."

The King of Archenland chuckled suddenly. "I still remember my very first thought when I first met King Peter."

At this, Susan couldn't help but remember her own first impression when she met the Magnificent King in the forest of Lantern Waste. _Surely_ , she thought. _Not like_ my _first thought when I first met him._

"And what is that, Your Majesty?" she asked.

"I had thought, My Lady," King Lune answered. "That King Frank himself walked straight out of the history books of Narnia and came into Anvard."

Susan pondered the King's words. She won't pretend that she knew much of King Frank, the first King and only King of Narnia before Peter and Caspian came, nor the way he looked in the history books. She had always hated the story of King Frank's downfall on the hands of the Witch and wouldn't read any books about him. She contented herself with Mr. Tumnus' lecture instead of reading the books about the King. She made a mental note to look for a portrait of King Frank in the library later.

Then suddenly, a loud, booming voice vibrated around the Great Hall that Susan could almost feel her hand shake as it rested on the table by her side.

"YOU ABSOLUTE BASTARD! HOW COULD YOU?!"

A voice that she was too familiar with, which sent shockwaves of emotions throughout her system because she had always known that voice to be soft and gentle.

And before Susan knew it, she was seeing Peter being flung to the marble floor by Caspian.

***

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!" Caspian strode angrily towards Peter, his brown eyes full of hate.

"Caspian, wh--" Peter scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with shock and confusion.

He was cut off by Caspian's fist making contact with his jaw. The force sent him staggering back on his feet.

"You traitor!" Caspian advanced towards Peter once again, eyes wild, all the etiquette of being a royalty gone. "You know I love her. How could you?!"

Peter's eyes widened. His gaze flitted towards Susan and her own shocked hazel blue irises met his.

Then another blow to his jaw sent Peter on the floor.

All this time, Susan remained rooted on her spot, not quite sure what to do. Shocked was an understatement as she watched, frozen, while Caspian threw his twin brother to the floor. Caspian. The always soft and gentle one.

But when she was brought to the equation, when she met Peter's shocked gaze, it was then that her mind started to function, jolting her to that shocking reality.

"Caspian!" she yelled. She felt the poor attempts of a pair of hands stopping her but she barely acknowledged them as she ran towards the two boys at the floor, one throwing punch after punch while the other trying his best to avoid them.

Susan tried her best to pull at Caspian's arms, to stop him from sending fist after fist against Peter's face, who was now developing an ugly cut above his left eye.

 _Oh, Aslan,_ her mind screamed. _Aslan, what have I done?_

"Was it all an act? Huh?" Caspian yelled, grabbing hold of Peter's collar. "You saying you hate her? That you can't stand her? What else have you been hiding from me, _brother?!"_

"Stop it, Caspian!" Susan yelled, grabbing for his shoulder now to drag him off from Peter. She knew it was pointless. She knew she didn't have the strength to pull him from Peter. But she just had to do something. _Something._

Caspian yelled again and was about to punch Peter when a hand helped Susan in taking hold of Caspian's shoulder, stopping him from delivering another blow to Peter's face. It was Edmund.

Susan went to Peter and helped him on his feet.

"Tell me, Pete!" Caspian was struggling from Edmund's grip now. "Was it all just a bloody act? A mere plan to lure her away from me? Tell me the bloody _truth!_ "

"You want the truth?!" Peter shouted, voice laced with anger. Susan recoiled beside him. There goes another voice she thought wasn't capable of that much intensity. "I love her, Caspian!"

Peter's voice vibrated around the Hall, silencing noise.

Susan felt like she was suffocating.

"I--" Peter stopped suddenly, almost choking. Like he had a million words he wanted to say and it was all crowding in his throat. "I love her," he finished softly.

Caspian's face was devoid of all emotions for a few seconds. And then, he was advancing towards Peter again, chocolate brown eyes losing all the warmth left. Edmund tried to hold him back but to no avail.

"Stop it!" Susan yelled, stepping in front of Peter to block Caspian's advance. Her knees trembled but she forced her whole body not to give in.

Caspian stopped. The intensity of the gaze he previously directed at Peter was now aimed at her. 

"So, you're on his side now?" he asked, a humorless smile playing on his lips.

"Wha--?" Susan's eyebrows scrunched in shock and frustration. "I'm on nobo--"

"Choose then," Caspian stated simply, panting heavily.

Susan's heart leapt to her throat.

The eldest Pevensie stared straight into the black-haired King of Narnia's eyes, looking for a hint that he was just joking. That he would take those words back any second now because he was just bloody joking.

That he didn't just force her to make a bloody _choice._

"That's enough, Caspian," Edmund spoke quietly behind him.

"No, Edmund, she has to choose," Caspian said, flatly and stubbornly, his teeth grinding together. "Peter or me."

Susan heard Peter's intake of breath behind her. She felt like she was about to faint.

"Caspian, you can't--" she started.

"CHOOSE, SU!"

"PETER!"

Silence.

Even though she still found it difficult to breath with her heart thudding madly in her chest, Susan tried to breathe evenly. She could feel Peter's piercing gaze on her but she stared back at Caspian, expecting him to charge. At _her._

And then, to her surprise, he pulled his arms from Edmund's grip and walked away, disappearing out of Cair Paravel's front doors and beyond.


	45. Summons

The Great Hall, previously full with music and laughter, was now silent as a grave. A needle could have dropped by the double oak front doors of Cair Paravel and you could have heard it all the way to the Hall's glass window behind the thrones of the Kings of Narnia.

Susan stood frozen in her spot, her breathing almost in pants. She couldn't make her voice to call out to Caspian as he ran out the castle's door. She couldn't turn her head to look at his retreating back.

She didn't even notice Lucy running towards her, Peter, and Edmund and stopping just a few feet from them. She couldn't even look back at Edmund in front of her as he stared at her sympathetically.

Peter didn't make a move to touch her but his gaze was unwavering on her back. He looked at her as her shoulders started to shake with sobs yet he didn't attempt to comfort her.

To say that Peter was shock of what Susan did-- or said-- was an understatement. His world literally froze the moment he heard his name. He hadn't even comprehended fully that Caspian walked out, that there were stinging pains in his jaw and nose, and that Aslan was perched between the two thrones, looking down upon them with a sad expression on his cat eyes.

There was just her. And her voice saying his name resounding over and over in his head.

"The goes your decision," Aslan said, his voice gentle and soft yet it seemed to vibrate loudly around the vast room.

Peter, Edmund, and Lucy raised their heads to look at the Lion, who was looking as majestic as ever, with his back on the Great Hall's enormous glass window and Narnia's half-moon.

"Do you mean--" Lucy started, eyes wide, her gaze flitting from Aslan and Susan and back again.

And it was in that moment that Susan's senses came back to her. She looked up and met Aslan's gaze. The tears in her eyes seemed to blur everything in her line of sight -- except the Lion.

"That--" Susan said slowly. "is _the_ \--"

She couldn't help but chuckle loudly, finding what Aslan was implying as silly, ridiculous, and impossible.

"Do you mean, Aslan, that _that_ is supposed to be the decision that will save Narnia?"

"Or destroy it," the Lion said

Every person in the Hall gaped at the Lion. Edmund and Lucy's eyebrows were scrunched in confusion as they stared up at him. Peter's brain was swirling in his head. And Susan's chuckles died in her throat.

"How will it--" Susan started, her mind racing.

"I think it's best if my father himself explains this all to you," Aslan said, walking down slowly the steps from the thrones to stand by closely to Susan.

"Your father?" Peter asked, his voice surprised and slightly coarse on his throat. "But Aslan, His Grace cannot leave his country."

"He can't, my son, yes." Aslan nodded. "That's why I'm taking you to him. He wants to see the both of you." The Great Lion looked at Peter and Susan.

Whispers broke out from the crowd. It was the first time they ever heard the Emperor being mentioned in matters of the state. Even back when the Witch first invaded Narnia, the Emperor had not involved himself in the war, making the Narnians think that he never really existed in the first place.

Now, hearing his own son mentioning him and that he was summoning the prophesized daughter of Eve and a King of Narnia to his country alarmed the Narnians and the guests.

Then there was a flash of bright light that engulfed the Hall. And when it seemed like time itself stopped, the light dissipated-- taking with it Aslan, Peter, and Susan.

***

Peter and Susan found themselves in an enormous room (if you could call it a room; the entire Great Hall of Cair could fit snugly inside it) a split second later.

In an enormous room, with the enormous windows thrown wide open into the balcony and into the star-patterned night sky, with an enormous pool in the middle, emitting a bright bluish light (a light that neither Peter nor Susan knew where it originated from since there were no moon shining outside the window) that bounced off the walls.

A wave of dizziness washed over Susan and she stumbled on her feet, her vision slightly spinning.

"Su," Peter moved to take her arms but she raised her hand.

"Just don't," she whispered.

Peter stopped for a moment, looking at her as she bent her hips forward to regain her senses, eyes closed. He heard voice screaming his name in his head again. He withdrew his hands and turned his gaze away from her.

On the other side of the pool, Peter saw a man standing on the balcony, his back to them. As if sensing his gaze, the man turned around and revealed a wise, old face with a heavily wrinkled forehead and white beard.

He fixated his blue-eyed gaze on him and Susan, kind and serious at the same time.

Peter and Susan was both speechless, feeling mesmerized, star-strucked, and honored to be on the Emperor's presence. One might think that Susan was too new in Narnia to know about who and what the Emperor really _is_ to the land, but she had lived long enough to know that the Emperor was basically a God to Narnia and its people.

Peter and Susan both got down on their knees.

"Father," Aslan spoke behind them, his paws treading silently on the tiled floor as he stepped forward.

"Aslan, my son," the Emperor spoke, his rich voice vibrating around the room. He regarded the Lion with a nod of his head and a small smile. "Welcome back."

The Emperor turned his attention back to the two humans that were still on their knees, heads bowed. "Rise, Peter and Susan, Protectors of Narnia."

The King of Narnia and the Daughter of Eve rose slowly on their feet and looked at the Emperor.

Both of them didn't really knew what to expect of the Emperor since they rarely hear his name. But they didn't expect him to look like _that._ So normal. So _human._ Though they both know that the Emperor is far from normal and even far more from being human.

"I brought them here, just as you requested." Aslan said.

"Yes, yes, and I am very thankful for that, my son." the Emperor replied, smiling. "If it weren't for my curse, I would have gone to Cair Paravel myself but alas, it is impossible."

"Curse, Your Grace?" Susan spoke, mentally cringing at the slight tremble of her voice. Though, in her defense, it was _very_ hard to speak normal when in the presence of a powerful and godly entity such as the Emperor.

"Oh, we'll get to that later, my dear," the Emperor said, walking towards them and stopping by the edge of the pool, its blue light illuminating his face, making him look godly as ever as he looked over to them. "But first, I have to tell you everything. Everything that is a mystery to you both. The White Witch, the prophecy, and--" the Emperor stopped, fixing his gaze on the blonde-haired King of Narnia. "--Peter, the Magnificent."

Susan couldn't help but look at Peter beside her for a few seconds, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

Peter's heartbeat seemed to stop.

"M-me?" he asked.

"Yes, dear one," the Emperor said. And the warmth in his face when Peter first laid his eyes on him seemed to slowly dissipate. "It is time that you know who you really are."


	46. Truths

"King Frank was the first and last King of Narnia. Before he came from another world-- the same world that you, my dear Susan, came from-- Narnia was a quiet land occupied by talking beasts and walking trees. It was overlooked by the Calormenes and the Archenlanders because they see it as cursed place. They are afraid to cross its borders for fear that a great lion might come bounding out of nowhere and swallow them whole." At this, the Emperor allowed a chuckle to escape from his lips. "They are afraid to conquer it (though, there is nothing to conquer) because they are afraid that their sons and grandsons and great-grandsons will be cursed by the animals-- or _demons_ , they call them-- that lived there.

"But when Frank and his wife, Helen, came into Narnia through a portal, and the Narnians made them the First King and Queen of the land, Narnia grew into a bountiful and powerful land that even countries across the Eastern Ocean now looked at it with greed. But those countries knew they couldn't invade it. For they knew that my son and I had given the land our blessings and protection. And they knew that no ordinary man would dare to defy our wrath.

"But Jadis was no ordinary man. She was a witch. A White Witch with the ancient giants' blood running through her veins. She came into the land years after King Frank, for his arrival triggered another portal to open. A portal from the accursed and crumbling land of Charn to Narnia. The moment she stepped into Narnia, the moment she smelled its magical air, the moment she gazed up into its young and bright sun, she knew she had to conquer it for her own."

The Emperor trailed off, staring so deeply into the glowing pool that Susan could almost hear his eyes drilling holes in the bottom.

And then Aslan spoke, "When Frank heard of the talk of the Narnians about this White Witch from another world, he didn't care. For his wife had just died, living him to care for their twelve-year old son, and he was overwhelmed with grief. He couldn't think about anything else. And taking advantage of that moment of weakness of the King, the White Witch gathered her dark forces and ended his reign in only one tragic night."

"And no one survived." Susan said. She hated this story. Back when Peter was telling this to her and her siblings in one of their history lessons, she always cringe everytime she envisioned the scene where the White Witch killed King Frank in the bedchambers of his son. When the King heard the screaming in the courtyard, he knew that the Witch had finally come. So he fled into Prince Sebastian's bedchambers to protect him. _But to no avail_ , she thought. _They both died._

"Except Prince Sebastian." the Emperor said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Susan's jaw dropped.

Peter stared blankly at the Emperor, his expression mirrored Susan's.

But Aslan betrayed no shock expression in his cat-like face, Susan observed. If anything, his expression was close to anger. It was almost as if he had known that the history books were wrong about that night, Susan thought.

"I beg your pardon, Your Grace, but--" Peter spoke, his voice incredulous. "The Prince _survived_?"

"Yes, Peter." Aslan answered. "When the Witch casted her spell that killed King Frank, the Prince miraculously survived. But barely. Father whisked him away before the Witch could discover that he was still alive. By the time she found out that the Prince's body was no longer in his bedchambers, it was too late. The Prince was already here."

"And that is why I was cursed to remain here, in my country, because of what I have done." the Emperor said. "I broke the natural law to never meddle with the mortals' world."

"And it would seem that you have broken it twice, Father." Aslan said, his ever gentle voice was slightly mingled with a growl.

Peter looked at Susan beside him but she didn't look back. God forbid, she wanted to look back at him so badly but she just couldn't. Not after what happened in that Hall.

"What happened to the Prince?" Peter said, tearing his eyes away from Susan to look at Aslan. "Why didn't he come back to Narnia?"

The Emperor raised his gaze from the pool to look intently at Peter.

"Oh, he came back, Peter. After I put him in a dreamless sleep for five hundred years, I sent him back to Narnia." he said, unblinking.

Shocked, Susan finally looked at Peter. And it was his turn not to look back. He was looking at the Emperor and Aslan back and forth, confusion written on his face.

"But if he came back to Narnia, why didn't you put him on the throne?" Peter asked.

"I didn't have to because he was already fighting for the throne..." Aslan said slowly. "...with his black-haired companion that he thought was his brother."

It seemed like Susan's breath froze in her throat.

Then and there, Peter's knees gave way beneath him. He felt like his surroundings was spinning out of control. His mind was dizzy with shock and confusion. His heartbeat was racing beyond control. He stumbled in his place.

"Pete..." Susan reached over before he threw himself over to the pool. She clutched his arms tight. He barely felt her grip.

"Are you saying that Peter--" Susan spoke, for she felt that Peter didn't had the strength to talk. "--is Prince Sebastian? King Frank's son? The heir to the throne of Narnia?"

The Emperor nodded, his eyes sad and close to tears. "Yes, Susan."

"But--" she stared at Peter who looked like he was about to throw up. "How could you hide this from him? From them?" Then realization dawned on her. "Oh, God. Caspian. He's not--" she swallowed. "He's not his brother, isn't he?"

"Caspian is the son of the late King Miraz of Telmar and the White Witch, Jadis." Aslan said, his eyes so full of pity that they lost their catlike fierceness.

"What?"

What did Susan get herself into?

"That's not true." Peter said, trembling as Susan held him. His voice was rough, nothing like the voice that Susan came to love. "My name is Peter, twin brother to Caspian. Our mother died giving birth to us five hundred years after the White Witch invaded Narnia. Our father was killed during a hunt by a boar that he tried to kill to feed us--"

"I'm sorry, Peter," the Emperor said, who was slowly making his way around the enormous pool to go to them. "But those are fake memories that I planted in your head and Caspian's before I sent you to the care of those dwarves."

Peter couldn't answer. He couldn't find anything to say. It seemed like his whole life was flashing before his eyes. The faces of his parents, the dwarves that raised him and Caspian, the kind face of Trufflehunter the Badger-- they just couldn't be fake. They were real, he knew. As real as Susan beside him, clutching him tightly, being his anchor to a steady ground in the midst of a swirling vortex that was his mind right now.

"Why didn't you tell them?" Susan asked. She barely noticed that she wasn't using courtesies anymore. But she couldn't help herself. After this gigantic bombshell the Emperor dropped on her and Peter's life, courtesies were the last thing on her mind.

"Destinies aren't meant to be meddled with, Susan." the Emperor answered sadly. "Prophecies are the proofs."

"'Not to be meddled with?'" Susan echoed disbelievingly. "I beg your pardon, Your Grace, but you meddled with their lives when you manipulated their memories."

Susan was fairly sure that if the circumstances was different, the Emperor would immediately banish her out of that land. But the Emperor didn't even look a bit angry.

"Exactly. I was meant to meddle with their memories. Caspian was meant to come to Narnia. Sebastian-- _Peter_ was meant to live this lifetime to meet you. And you were meant to fall inlove with him."

Susan felt her cheeks warmed. She felt Peter calmed beside her but she didn't let go of him.

"I was not proud of what I did." the Emperor continued. "I never intended to ruin their lives. But there is a powerful force that governs all our destinies. All of these things-- they are happening for a reason."

Peter stood up straight. Susan didn't let go of his arm. "So how does Susan fit into all this, Your Grace?"

"The first part of the prophecy has been fulfilled. The daughter of Eve has already made the choice." the Emperor replied.

"Forgive me, Your Grace, but I'm confused." Susan stepped forward, letting go of Peter. "The Prophecy said that I will make a decision that will either save Narnia or destroy it. I'm sorry, but I couldn't see how choosing Peter over Caspian--" It sounded so awfully cheesy that she could feel her cheeks redden again, to her frustrations. "How could it--"

"By choosing Peter over him, you threw a switch that triggered Caspian to go over to the Witch's side." the Emperor turned away from them and returned his gaze back to the pool.

It was Susan's turn to collapse and Peter was quick to catch her.

She couldn't believe it. She just couldn't. Caspian-- gentle and kind Caspian, he couldn't possibly go over to the Witch's side just because she loved his brother more than him, right? He wasn't the sort of person to loathe someone, much less to go over to the enemies' side and betray them. Even though he walked out on them in that Hall a few hours ago-- no, he couldn't possibly...

"That's impossible, Your Grace." Peter managed to say, his very being felt very weak after all the revelations of who he really was. Though he knew, deep inside, after all that he discovered that night, nothing was no longer impossible. "Caspian wouldn't betray us just because of--"

"Love?" the Emperor chuckled again. A sad one. "I've seen thousands of kingdoms crumble because of love, Your Majesty."

"The Witch was... informed of her ties to Caspian shortly after the prophecy about Susan was spoken." Aslan spoke. Peter almost forgot that the Great Lion was there. "We have suspected that she has been speaking to Caspian through his dreams."

"That was why you were there tonight." Peter said, slowly getting down to a kneeling position to support Susan who was getting pale. He felt tingles up his arms while holding her, and a part of him was happy that she was no longer cringing away from him. But the situation they were in felt like a nightmare that he couldn't fully comprehend that she was in his arms again. His mind just wanted to rest, to absorb all the details that the Emperor spilled.

Aslan walked over to them, his paws making no noise against the marbled floor. He breathe into Susan's face and Peter could see her complexion returning. Then Aslan turned to him and breathe on his face, too. Suddenly, the weight on his mind lightened. He felt like he just drank a glass of wine, his energy slowly returning. His vision was returning into its normal steady state.

Susan met his gaze. Her blue eyes betrayed the gentle fierceness that he loved about her. His determination to save Narnia was mirrored in them, too.

"So what are we going to do?" Susan asked softly.

"As my father said, we aren't allowed to meddle with mortals' affairs." Aslan said. "But it doesn't mean that we won't help you. We will guide you as best we can, dear ones. For we know that this will be the greatest challenge that the both of you will ever face yet. _This_ is the reason. But as to what you are going to do?"

"Those will be all up to you." the Emperor said, strangely smiling. "I have faith in you, High King and Queen of Narnia."

***

"You were right," Caspian said, expressionless. "They're traitors. Liars."

"As I have told you, my boy. They cannot be trusted."

Jadis was on the other side of the wall of ice. No she was inside the wall of ice, erected on the dais where her throne previously stood before Peter and Caspian overthrew her and broke her wand, thus weakening her power. She couldn't obtain a physical form.

 _Not yet_ , she thought as she looked down at Caspian, smiling in that wicked way of hers. _But soon._

Caspian was standing a few steps below the wall of ice, staring blankly at the Witch's wand lodged on the topmost step of the dais, his mind a whirlwind of anger, sadness, confusion, and frustration. Everything was all a blur for him. If one would ask how he got to the Witch's castle (what remained of it, at least) which would take a three-day ride from Cair Paravel, he would say he had no idea because he really had none.

"Liars," he repeated, his voice a whisper.

He felt helpless. Everything that he had-- everything he thought he had-- was slowly crumbling around him. He felt empty and hollow. He felt nothing like the King of Narnia he was a few hours ago. It seemed like Susan unlocked this persona that Caspian didn't know he had the moment she admitted the truth. The truth that she and Peter was betraying him.

How could they do that to him? He was his brother. She was the most gentle and kind person he knew. How could they betray him like that? Do they feel guilty all those months they were together while he was out there in the Lone Islands, doing his kingly duties? Do they even think about him? Do they--

And Aslan.

Aslan and his lies.

He couldn't hate anyone as much as he hated Aslan.

"Don't worry, Caspian." Jadis said softly, though her voice was far from kind. "Everything will be alright. You want Narnia's throne? I'll give it to you. You want the girl? I'll spare her life and make her your Queen. But first, my son, you have to help me."

Caspian looked up at her through the wall of ice, his brown eyes as empty and hollow as what he felt. "How?"

The Witch's green eyes glimmered, her pale lips formed into a smile. "Why, you're my son. You are the blood of my blood. When we are one, we are invincible."


	47. Counsels

Cair Paravel was a restless heap for the next few weeks. Everyone couldn't find it in themselves to settle. After Peter and Susan returned from the Emperor's land, and all that they have discovered there were made known to the court, and when Caspian didn't return to Narnia after that feast when he walked out through Cair's front doors, the castle was in a constant uproar.

"So what could this mean, Su?" Edmund had asked her sister the night she returned. "Is Caspian..." he trailed off, cringing at the sad expression that blew across Susan's face at the mention of the name. "Is he our enemy now?"

"I don't know, Ed," she admitted, her eyes close to tears. "I don't know."

Susan couldn't stop thinking about how all of this was her fault. If she had stayed level-headed and didn't follow Lucy inside that bloody wardrobe, Narnia wouldn't be on this mess. If she hadn't stepped into this magical world, she wouldn't have met those two Kings that were the cause of her dilemma. She wouldn't have fallen for Caspian first and then fallen for Peter _hard_ later and then Narnia wouldn't be on the brink of being invaded by the White Witch. She would trade _anything_ to go back time and put a warning sign on the door of that blasted wardrobe...

 _But_ , she thought, _do you really, deep down, pray for that? Would you really trade_ anything _to unmeet Peter?_

 _No_ , she admitted. Then she would burst down to tears again.

Maybe this was her punishment, she thought. With all the rebuffment she made to guys who tried to court her back in England, maybe the cosmos thought it fit to punish her. Maybe deities out there in the cosmos were laughing at her current predicament now, being the girl that would bring the downfall of the whole country because she fell inlove with two guys. Two _brothers._

Preparations were constantly made during those restless weeks. New defenses were set up around the borders, for the Narnians knew that Caspian surely would've already told the Witch about Narnia's borders now that he had joined her side.

Knowing Caspian was the son of the Witch was something that no one couldn't believe. Caspian was every bit as gentle as Peter, or even gentler. It made him a very good envoy for Narnia. In all the two years of his and Peter's reign, Narnians didn't see him as someone who is violent (violent to their enemies maybe) and capable of destruction. So discovering that he was the son of the White Witch, the son that they had heard only in myths that they were afraid to even whisper much less speak aloud... shock was an understatement to what the Narnians felt.

Peter felt like he was a newly-crowned King of Narnia again. The people in court and the servants alike looked at him with admiration and awe in their eyes. For he was the Prince Sebastian, son of King Frank and Queen Helen of old, the First King and Queen of Narnia, thought dead for five hundred years and yet-- he was here, living inside the walls of the castle that was his birthright.

He thought of Caspian during his every waking second. He hated him for betraying them. He hated him so much for going over to the Witch's side just because he failed to win the affections of the girl they both loved. Was he really that dumb?

But deep inside Peter, he was praying for Caspian to return. He was still his brother. They grew up together. Fake memories or no, he knew that what he was feeling right now, that yearning to see and be with his brother again, was real.

One late night, a few weeks later after their visit to the Emperor's country, he headed to the castle's library, looking for the book that retold the history of King Frank and the downfall of Narnia. He stared hard at the portrait of the King and Queen, trying to bring back his memories of them. But, to his frustrations, he couldn't. All he could see was his father's face the night he left to hunt to feed him and Caspian when they were still seven years of age and the dwarves that raised them after they were orphaned.

He couldn't remember anything about his life as Sebastian.

Frustrated, he threw the book against the wall of the library, grabbing fistfuls of his blond hair in his hands. He wanted to scream, but his voice was lodged in his throat.

"Peter," a voice spoke behind him.

It was Lucy.

She looked like she couldn't sleep either.

"Lu," he said, his voice gentle. He had always liked Lucy. She was this little sister that he never had. But looking at her now, her blond hair (although not as blond as his) left loose around her that were now past her shoulders and seeing how tall she was (she was almost as tall as Susan now) she looked far from little. Was she still a twelve year old? Or a few years older? "What are you doing here?"

"Honestly, I have no idea," Lucy shrugged. "I couldn't sleep. I was about to go out to shore--"

"Go out to shore?" Peter echoed. "Lucy, do you have any idea how dangerous it is out there--"

"I know, Pete, I know," Lucy rolled her eyes. "God, its bad enough that I have a stubborn and over-protective older sister. Now, I'm going to have an even more over-protective future brother-in-law."

Peter looked away from the girl at that, blushing. His frustrations about who he was shortly forgotten.

Lucy knew she had him. She allowed a smile to form on her lips. But then she caught a glimpse of the book that Peter had flung and she knew that this was not the time for jests.

Or maybe it was. She had no idea.

"Are you alright?" Lucy sat beside him on the couch, the lamplight on the table in front of them casted a glow on Peter's face that illuminated his complexion.

"No," Peter muttered. "Not even a little bit."

"You know, don't expect me to give you the 'everything-will-be-alright-don't-worry' speech because I have no idea what you're going through right now. I have never been put in an enchanted sleep for five hundred years with no idea about who I am when I woke up except for the fake memories that was put inside my brain."

Peter laughed at that. Lucy got Susan's witful humor and that made him like the little girl more.

"But what I know, Peter, is that you will be alright," Lucy continued. "Because you're... you. You're King Peter, the savior of Narnia. You will get through this."

"That's the problem, Lu," Peter looked at her, exasperation plain on his face. "I don't know who I am anymore. If I'm Sebastian or... or Peter. I can't remember! All I remember are these fake memories and I-- I can't--"

"Then just be you," Lucy placed a comforting hand on his arm. "Don't be Sebastian or Peter. Be the person that me and my siblings met in that clearing, the person with the brave and good heart. The person that my sister fell inlove with."

Peter looked at the girl beside him. "You know, for a little girl, you're pretty good at giving advises."

"I'm not sure if I'm a little girl anymore." Lucy shrugged again. "For all we know, I'm already twenty. Or thirty."

"Right. I forgot that time travels in Narnia faster than in your world." Peter laughed again. Somehow, Lucy had just taken some of his worries away. He guessed those where the Pevensie sisters' greatest talent, easing his emotions.

And speaking of Pevensie sisters...

"So..." he started, not knowing how to continue. _How is she these days? Is she alright?_ Even by his standards, those two typical questions seemed silly and crazy and very bloody inappropriate.

Lucy seemed to read his mind. "She's fine. She's just... slowly grasping everything that is happening."

"She's not blaming herself, is she?" Knowing Susan, she had probably done that already.

"Oh, she is. She's mad at herself for ever coming to this place. Said that if she hadn't come to Narnia--"

"She musn't think that," Peter quickly said, an image of Susan crying in her bedchambers while blaming herself for this scenario they had fallen into was enough to make him worry again. "She's the best thing that ever happened to Narnia." _She's the best thing that ever happened to me_ , he thought.

Lucy snorted. "Try to get that inside her stubborn head. Edmund is the only one patient and humorous enough to keep her company nowadays. He's constantly jesting her about how her taste of guys is now causing the downfall of the land."

Peter chuckled. _Oh, Edmund. Ever the cheeky one._

"You should talk to her, Peter," Lucy said softly.

"But--" he hesitated. "I don't know what to say. The last time we talked, she--" She said that he was just a mistake.

 _But that was before she practically announced to the whole country that she loves you_ , idiot!

"And, besides," he continued. " _She_ doesn't want to talk to me. You saw how she acts around me these past few weeks." _That's why I'm willing to give her space. As much as I can give her. Even though I really want to be with her so bad that it hurts._

"That's because she thought you hate her."

" _What?_ " His jaw dropped open.

Lucy rolled her eyes. She so didn't want to talk about this right now. "Nevermind. My point is," she gazed directly into his eyes. "You need each other. Maybe Susan's part of the prophecy had been fulfilled but I got the feeling that there is more to it than that. She's still got a part to play, I know it. And I also know that you need to each other to get through this. So set aside your quarrels or feelings or whatever. The country needs both of you together."

Peter was quiet at that. He realized Lucy was right. The Emperor had called them High King and Queen of Narnia himself. There must be reason for that aside from the fact that, according to the Emperor, they were meant to meet and fall inlove. They both had roles to play in this war. And he knew those roles are vital in order for Narnia to survive. They need each other.

How the hell does this girl beside him get so wise?

And then Lucy yawned loudly.

"You should sleep," Peter said. "Here, I'll carry you to your bedchambers."

"No, Peter. I'm fine." Lucy managed to say. "I am still very much awake to go back to my bedchambers alone."

"Not a chance, Lu. Those staircases are high--"

"I told you, I don't need another over-protective older companion in my life." she said, yawning again.

Lucy stood up from the couch and started to walk to the doors of the library, but she stumbled and almost crashed to the nearest oaken table.

Peter immediately got to her side and scooped her up in his arms. The youngest Pevensie was already half-asleep.

And he thought Susan was the stubborn one.

***

When he passed Susan's bedchambers on the way back from Lucy's, he could hear sniffles inside.

_That's because she thought you hate her._

He had half the mind to knock and tell her that he didn't hate her. Not even a little bit. That all of this wasn't her fault. But fought against the will. He thought of the last time he was inside her bedchambers when she broke his heart.

Still... he wanted to talk to her so bad but Peter didn't have even the slightest idea what to say and he knew that that would only put them in a more awkward situation. And he also knew that midnight conversations, although sometimes very therapeutic, wouldn't be so comforting right now. Hell, he didn't even know if he would even be a comfort to her right now.

The moment they returned from the Emperor's country, Peter and Susan hadn't had the chance to talk. Maybe they were too affected by all that they have learned there that they needed some time to sink it all in. Or maybe they were just ignoring each other, he had no idea. Though, they were there for each other when the secrets spilled by the Emperor and Aslan proved too much for the both of them, but still... they had gone through a lot of things for just one sudden intimate moment to mend them. That scene in the Great Hall, that moment in her bedchambers, felt like a million years ago after all the sudden uproar in Cair these past few weeks, but in his mind it was still very vivid. He couldn't start to imagine how it is for her.

_That's because she thought you hate her._

So he just stood there until her sniffles subsided then walked away slowly, partly wishing that the doors would open and she would come out and they would talk about whatever it is that was wrong with them but they never did. He started to head to his own bedchambers on the opposite end of the hall.

When he got to the fork of the hallway, he turned his head to look at the doors of Caspian's bedchambers. He wished more than anything to see him walk right out of those doors, black hair rumpled and eyes bloodshot from sleep.

 _You're wishing for a lot of impossible things tonight, Peter_ , he told himself as he entered his bedchambers and closed the door behind him.

***

When Peter passed her bedchambers on his way back from Lucy's, Susan was crying on the floor with her back against the doors.

She wasn't crying because she hated her existence. She wasn't crying because she blamed herself for the looming possible destruction of the land she loves.

No, she was crying because Caspian came to see her.

And she had let him walk away again.


	48. Quaints

Susan couldn't sleep that night.

Well, she hadn't had any ever since after she got back from the Emperor's country. If she luckily could get a shuteye, her dreams would be full of Peters blaming and yelling at her for the end of Narnia, and Narnians crowding around her holding torches and pitchforks, and her siblings looking her with disgust and disappointment. She would wake up in cold sweat and would be more miserable than before she had drifted off.

So she had taken to being alone all the time. She would only go out her bedchambers if it was time to eat (she just couldn't let Mr. Tumnus, or Freesia, or any other Narnians in court bring her food in her room; she was already feeling guilty enough as it was), even though it was the time of the day that she dreaded the most. Because Peter was there. He was _always_ there. And the longer she was there with him, the more she wanted to run and hide.

He must've hated her. Every time she would catch him looking at her and then quickly looking away when he noticed she was looking at him too... what else could it be?

 _With good reason_ , she thought. _I broke his heart. I called our relationship a mistake. I kissed his brother in front of him. And then I basically made a decision that could possibly destroy his kingdom._

True, Peter had told her that he was willing to fight for her. That night, under the star-splattered skies, he said he was willing to be selfish just so he could be together with her. And that night during the celebratory feast, the night that changed their lives, he had admitted, in front of his own brother and the whole of Narnia, that he loved her.

 _But that was before he knew he was Sebastian_ , Susan thought sadly. Sebastian, to whom Narnia belongs to the moment he was born. The rightful King. The protector of the land. Susan was sure that, right at this moment, Peter only see her as someone who threw the switch of the downfall of his kingdom, not as the girl he loved.

Lucy had told her that she must have known nothing about love if she really thought that Peter would think of her like that. Edmund was being Edmund about it.

"Susan, you're my sister and even if I hate you everytime you go all Mum on me, I love you with all my heart. But you are the dumbest person I know if you really think that Peter hates you. God, if you could only see how he looks at you even now when you're avoiding him... his eyes are so love strickened it's almost disgusting."

If the circumstances were any different, if she wasn't feeling miserable, she would already have smack him upside the head. But she couldn't find the energy to do so.

But her siblings' words of comfort had done nothing to ease her emotions.

And her bedchambers were starting to suffocate her.

So she decided, as she looked out at her balcony and Narnia's new moon were shining brightly over all the land beneath it, that a touch of the sea against her toes would do her good. She went out of the castle, tiptoed around the guards that stood sentry over the staircase that led to her and her siblings' bedchambers and those at Cair's oaken front doors (those two centaurs took a lot of convincing), and headed to the shore.

For the first time in months, as she walked down the shore with her favorite purple velvet robe wrapped around her, Susan pondered about returning to England.

She thought of how peaceful her life had been there. With only schoolworks to worry about. And her siblings, of course. Even before she and her siblings went to live with Professor Kirke, when they were still living under their aunt and uncle's home (with their very annoying cousin), she had become a parent to Edmund and Lucy ever since their father went to war and never came back and their mother was killed when bombs started falling on their quiet neighborhood in Finchley. Their Uncle Harold and Aunt Alberta were too focused on spoiling their son that they'd sort of forgotten that there were also three other children living with them.

But however peaceful her life had been in England, she would never leave Narnia. It was already a part of her in ways that she couldn't even start to explain. Not to mention Edmund and Lucy who both seemed to love Narnia more than her. And Narnia was in the brink of war because of her. She couldn't abandon it. She couldn't and she wouldn't.

And Peter.

Of course, there was Peter.

_Sebastian-- Peter was meant to live this lifetime to meet you. And you were meant to fall inlove with him._

Meant. _Destined_.

_And are we also destined to fall apart?_

The clenching feeling in her chest returned and she fought it with all her might as she felt the sea lapping against her ankles. She came to the shore to relax, to forget her troubles, not to ponder her slowly crumbling relationship with a certain blond-haired King of Narnia.

She saw a cave ahead of her, a few paces from where she was at. And as she stared at it, it became more like a gigantic rock with a hole in its middle, like a tunnel, than a cave. She started to head towards it.

She felt the presence even before she heard the soft crunching of sand under a pair of boots.

Immediately, all thoughts vacated her mind as she froze there, terror washing over her. How dumb of her for ever leaving her guards back at that staircase! How stupid of her for ever thinking that the shore is safe!

Susan stood there, frozen. She thought if she could even have the chance to scream for help before whoever it was behind her could kill her.

Then the soft, velveted, and oh so familiar voice that she thought she would never hear, spoke:

"Susan,"

Her knees trembled beneath her. She knew she should feel terrified of that voice because its owner was no longer a Narnia friend. But why didn't she feel even an ounce of fear? If anything, the terror she felt before she heard that voice somehow lessened at the sound of it.

She slowly turned around, sure that her knees would buckle under her before she could even catch a glimpse of his face.

But they didn't.

And she saw him.

"Caspian," she breathed.

And Caspian was there, a few paces from her, dressed in white tunic and pants, nothing like the formal ones he wore the last time she saw him. His black hair was longer by a few inches. He was smiling at her yet his warm brown eyes betrayed a hint of sadness.

"How--" Impossible. "How are you here?"

"Do you really want to know?" he smirked, his voice playful and gentle as when he first talked to her when she first met him in Cair's courtyard, months ago.

"I--" Her voice seemed to be choking her. Looking at his face, smiling at her as if she hadn't hurt him, made her suffer with guilt.

"Where's Peter?" he looked around. "Or should I say, Sebastian?"

His smile seemed to grow wider.

He knows. How in Aslan's mane did he know?

"Caspian, I--" Again, words seemed to fail her. She was distracted by the way Caspian was behaving. That strange smile...

"I thought he'd be wherever you would be," Caspian continued, that strange smile that was now slowly terrifying her still etched on his lips. "He loves you, doesn't he?"

"Caspian, what are you doing here?" she finally managed to ask. "If the guards see you--"

"I came to talk to you, Su," he said, his smile disappeared from his face so quickly that it almost looked as if it wasn't even there one second ago.

"What?" she asked, incredulous.

There's something wrong with him, Susan thought. She wanted to apologize to him. She wanted to tell him to return to the castle because his brother missed him, her own siblings missed him, and she missed him. So much. Buy he was starting to frighten him.

And then he was inches from her. She could see his brown eyes more clearly now, and there was a mixture of desperation, sadness, and conflict in there. "I need you to help me." he said.

He gripped her arm, a little tight to her liking. Nothing like the gentle touch he had given her during their dance a million nights ago.

"Caspian, please let me go," she tried to free her arm. "You're hurting me."

That seemed to knock him back to his sanity. He looled at his hand gripping his arm, then he looked into her frightened blue eyes, and let go.

"I'm sorry, Su," he whispered.

What's wrong with him? Susan wanted to scream. This was all her fault. Peter... and now Caspian. She had broken them both.

"What's happening, Caspian?" her voice was close to breaking. "Why are you here? Why are you... like that?"

Caspian seemed to have gained his gentle composure. The crazed look wasn't entirely gone from his brown eyes, but his warm gaze somehow returned. He placed both of his hands on Susan's cheeks. They were warm and soft as she remembered which made her want to cry.

"I need you to do something for me, Susan," Caspian said softly.

When she didn't answer, merely looked at him straight into his eyes, tears threatening to fall from her own blue orbs, he said, "I need you to leave. Leave Narnia. Please." His voice was suddenly full of pain.

"Why?" Susan asked.

"I don't want to see you get hurt. Jadis will stop at nothing to kill you. She promised she'd spare you for me but I don't--" his voice was strangled, broke. "Please, Su, I need you to return to your world."

Susan saw that Caspian really meant it. That he really wanted her to be out of harm's way. But so did she with him. Did he know that she wanted him to be safe in this war? Even though he had joined the Witch's army, did he know that most of her sleepless nights were filled with thoughts of him and what the Witch might be doing to him?

"No, Caspian," she held his hands that were still on her cheeks. "It's you that needs to return. Come back home. Come back home to your brother."

Caspian managed to chuckle. "Narnia is not my home, Susan. And he's not my brother. I know you know that."

Susan shook her head. "Narnia is your home, Caspian. And Peter is your brother. Nothing can change that." She said it with much conviction she could muster. She needed him to believe that because it was the truth. Knowing him as the son of the White Witch didn't change the way how she looked at him. And she knew that everyday, Peter wished his brother would return to him, to join him in that throne room and sit beside him where Caspian belonged.

"Please, Caspian. Come back home. Come back to me." she whispered, leaning into his hands.

He looked down at her. She could see the conflict in his eyes, as if arguing with himself to either listen to her and return to the castle or disappear again and go back to Jadis.

_Please._

"She's my mother," he said.

"She's your enemy. She's been brainwashing you in your dreams."

She barely noticed Caspian's expression changed slightly at the last part.

"She's the only person who was honest with me."

That hit her. Shards of guilt and pain were stabbing against her chest as he said that. Susan wanted to say that the Witch was only using the truth for her advantage. That she was only honest with him because she knew it would sway him to her side.

"I love you," she said desperately, before she could stop herself.

Caspian smiled sadly. "But not as much as you love him."

And it was then that her tears cascaded down her pale cheeks. Yes, she loved him. But she loved Peter more. And thus, this mess.

"Caspian--"

"Promise me, Susan," he said. "Promise me, you'll leave. Before it's too late. Before I--" his voice broke again. "Please."

"I--" she looked at his brown eyes again, and saw in them the pain that she was also feeling now. "I can't. I can't leave, Caspian, and I won't."

She saw him close his eyes briefly and hang his head in sadness, as if he had already expected her answer.

"Then I guess the next time we'll meet, we'll be enemies."

Susan had a lot of response to that. So many words were crowding inside her head that they seemed to be choking her.

Everytime she thought of him, Susan was convinced that Caspian couldn't have fully succumbed to the Witch. She was convinced that he wouldn't trade everything he had in Narnia with Peter for Jadis just because of a broken heart.

 _I've seen thousands of kingdoms crumble because of love_ , the Emperor had said.

She had refused to believe him. Not Caspian, she thought. He's the most kind-hearted person I know and the Witch can't take that kindness away from him.

But now, as she looked deep into his eyes and saw the sadness and surrender in them, she couldn't help but feel her heart shattering to pieces.

_Then I guess the next time we'll meet, we'll be enemies._

_This couldn't be happening_.

Caspian smiled at her. An empty smile. A farewell.

"Goodbye, Susan."

And then he left, as quickly as he had appeared. And Susan was left there, standing resolute by the shore with the sea lapping against her ankles.

He disappeared through the cave that she had seen earlier. And the last she saw of him was his brown leathered boots. His brown leathered boots that were twins with Peter's.

***

When the hags prepared him for the ritual by bathing him with freezing cold water alight with blue fire and told him to cling in something that will anchor him to the present world so that he wouldn't drown and disappear into the world of the dead, Caspian thought of Susan.

As he submerged under the water and he could feel the burning cold overloading his senses, he thought of her smile. Her voice. Her eyes. Her kiss.

Then he surrendered to oblivion.


	49. Strategies

Caspian walked into the White Witch's ruined yet crowded throne room. Jadis' subjects made an aisle for him as he made his way to the dais where her ruined throne stood.

At the foot of the steps leading to the dais, there was an ice casket with its lid thrown open. A circle was drawn on the ground surrounding it. Outside the circle, three hags stood. One of them was cradling Jadis' broken wand with utmost care. Their eyes were following him as he made his way to the casket.

Caspian shed his white tunic and stepped inside the circle, his thoughts as empty as it was when he first arrived at the ruined castle after he left Cair Paravel. With barely any walls and ceilings, it was freezing cold but he barely felt it.

"Rally all our forces," he spoke, turning his head slightly to the right to where the General of the Witch's army stood. His voice nearly a whisper yet it seemed that all the Witch's subjects heard it all the way to the last creature standing by the collapsed front doors of the castle. "When I wake up, we're at war."

The General, a Minotaur, grunted his answer: "At once, Your Highness."

Whether he called him that because he was a King of Narnia or he was Jadis' son, Caspian no longer had the mind to wonder.

Caspian climbed into the ice casket and laid down. Whether it was cold or not, he couldn't tell. He barely even heard the chantings of the hags and the rest of the Witch's minions as he climbed inside. A hag closed the lid.

And it was then that all came rushing back to his head.

Narnia. Cair Paravel. Peter. Susan.

Aslan.

_Aslan, I'm sorry._

But he knew it was already too late. His hands were tied. His blood had been claimed. His life had been forfeited.

And when he'd wake up, he would be no longer in control of his own body.

He heard a loud crack on the ground outside his casket. Like a spear being strucked on a cemented floor.

Caspian closed his eyes.

***

"The Witch's army has left her castle, Your Majesty." Mr. Tumnus said. "The Minotaurs, ogres, hags, specters... all of them."

Peter didn't answer. He continued to stare at the map of Narnia laid in front of him, his knuckles white against the table.

He had convened a gathering in the council room. The General of the Narnian army, the centaur Oreius, was there as well as his second-in-command, another centaur named Glenstorm. They stood on the either side of the door, their horsetails occasionally swishing back and forth behind them. Trumpkin, the leader of the Dwarves and his second-in-command, Nikabrik were also present. Both of them were sitting on the high backed chairs opposite to Peter.

Mr. Tumnus was on Peter's left while Edmund was on his right. Peter had half the mind not to let Edmund join the gathering. Partly because he was still awfully too young to fight in a war and partly because he didn't want Susan mad at him.

But who was he kidding? Edmund had easily become one of his skilled fighters. And with Caspian gone (his chest clenched at that) he needed someone to be his partner.

And I've trained him well, he thought.

"How many?" Edmund asked.

"Thousands? Ten thousands? We aren't sure, Your Highness. But their numbers have multiplied since we've last faced them." Mr. Tumnus replied.

"Far greater than our own numbers, then." Nikabrik grumbled.

"Numbers do not win a battle." Glenstorm spoke from the door. "His Majesty had proven that during the first battle against the Witch."

"Do not forget, Aslan had helped." Nikabrik replied to the centaur. "If only we could expect the same from him now but we hadn't heard or seen him these past few weeks."

Peter knew that Nikabrik hadn't had much faith on the Great Lion. Being a Black Dwarf who was previously on the Witch's side (though he has no plans on returning to her, the dwarf convinced him) he feared Aslan.

But Peter has faith. Even though Aslan and his father has lied to him about who he is (he couldn't blame Aslan on that though; the Emperor said so himself that even Aslan didn't know what he had done until recently) he still believed on him. On both of them. And they promised they will help him.

Peter had already forgiven the Emperor for what he did, considering that he saved him from death. But, nevertheless, he still couldn't avoid the empty feeling in his chest everytime he would try to remember his real father and mother, King Frank and Queen Helen.

"He will help us." Edmund said, as if reading Peter's mind. "Have faith."

The blonde-haired King look at the black-haired Pevensie beside him briefly.

"Who leads their troops?" Edmund asked.

"King Caspian, Your Highness." Mr. Tumnus answered. "Our eagle scouts didn't get close but they were fairly sure."

No one spoke. Peter closed his eyes.

"So what are your orders, Your Majesty?" Trumpkin asked.

"Ed?" Peter looked at the Pevensie beside him again. When he looked back at him, confusion written on his face, Peter gestured at the map. The black haired teen stared at it.

Edmund looked up at him from the map, with a hint of disbelief in his brown eyes and Peter gave him a smile. Aside from swordfighting lessons, he had also given Edmund some pointers on battle strategy. And the middle Pevensie sibling had proved that he was also good at it too. He had reasoned that it was because he loved to play chess that strategies come easily in his head. Peter couldn't argue with that. Edmund was a really good chess player.

Edmund looked back at the map again. "Well, the Witch marches from her house, right? And she can't attack us through Aslan's How." He placed a finger on where Aslan's How was placed on the map. "Not only because it's a long way from her castle but also because she can't cross the Great River. So she'll take the short and the direct way to Cair Paravel."

"Through the plains of Beruna." Peter nodded, a small smile on his lips. "How many days?" he asked Mr. Tumnus.

"Three days and they'll be upon us." the faun replied.

"Then we shall go and meet them. General Oreuis, have our men march from Aslan's How to the plains of Beruna but leave behind a few to guard it in case the Witch thinks to attack it. I will follow." Peter said.

"At once, Your Majesty. But--" the General trailed off. "If what Tumnus said was true and they outnumber us... well, numbers may not win a battle but they help."

"The Archenlanders," Edmund said. "Didn't King Lune promise to help us?"

"He did," Peter replied. "I already sent word. Two days from now, they'll be here. Trumpkin, have your fellow dwarves be prepared. You will be joining Oreuis."

The Red Dwarf nodded.

"You may go now." Peter dismissed them.

"Your Majesty," Oreuis bowed his head, and Glenstorm followed suit. Then they left the council room. Trumpkin and Nikabrik also bowed and followed the centaurs.

"And you, Mr. Tumnus," Peter turned to the faun beside him. "You will be staying here in the castle."

"Peter, I can fight." Mr. Tumnus stated.

"Yes, you can, my old friend. But I need you here in Cair. You will be the castellan while I'm gone."

"But Lady Susan--"

Peter sighed. "If you truly know her, Mr. Tumnus, then you'd know she will no sooner remain here in Cair than engage Jadis in single combat."

"I guess you're right, Your Majesty." Mr. Tumnus smiled a little.

When Mr. Tumnus had his leave, Edmund said, "What about me, Peter? Surely, you're not thinking about leaving me here, aren't you?"

"Honestly, Edmund," Peter replied. "I want you by my side during the battle. You have proven to be a great fighter and a strategist for all these months of my mentoring you. But its not my place to decide. Susan--"

"Oh, leave her to me." Edmund interrupted. "She can never say no."

"But I can't blame her if she'll say no, Ed. This is war we're talking about here. And its going to be a big one."

"And you said so yourself that I'm already a good fighter," Edmund persisted. "I can survive this."

Peter groaned. Is stubborness a family trait to these Pevensies?

"Peter?"

It was the voice that hadn't spoken to Peter for like an eternity.

She was there by the door, looking breathtaking as always but the dark shadows under her eyes somehow ruined its blue color. He figured she was still having no luck in sleeping at night same as him. He flashedback three nights ago when he passed by her bedchambers and she was crying inside, the first time he heard her elicit an emotion after their visit to the Emperor's country.

"Edmund, could you give us a moment, please?" Susan told her brother.

Peter could see a small smile forming on the younger Pevensie's lips. He remembered when Lucy had told him how Edmund kept jesting his sister about how her taste of guys was now causing these chaos. He figured Edmund must have known too that he and Susan hadn't been talking.

"Sure," Edmund shrugged. He gave Peter a last look before he headed to the door. When he got to Susan's side, he stopped. "Are you alright, sis?" he asked softly.

"I'm fine, Ed, don't worry." Susan gave him a reassuring smile. "I just need to talk to Peter about something important."

Edmund nodded. He rubbed his sister's arm affectionately for a moment before leaving the council room.

Peter couldn't help but stare at the two Pevensies' behavior. Susan and Edmund were always arguing about anything, useless or not, that their sudden show of affection to each other surprised him.

He stood unmoving for a moment, couldn't quite believe that Susan was in front of him, that she had come looking for him to talk to him, and that they're alone...

"I saw Caspian." she said suddenly. "He came to see me, three nights ago."

*

She saw his blue eyes widen as her words left her mouth.

"H--" he swallowed. "Where?"

"The shore," she replied, her mind suddenly flashing back to that night and she willed herself not to close her eyes as the clenching feeling in her chest returned.

Peter didn't respond. He merely stared at a point above her head.

Susan had caught him off guard and she knew it. When she saw Caspian that night, she was overwhelmed with dozens of emotions that she barely could speak. She couldn't even start to imagine how it was for Peter. That was why she first decided not to tell him. But Peter deserved to know; Caspian was his brother, and something more than blood has bonded them.

"What did he say? H--" he leaned against the table, knuckles white against it. He had his head low, looking as if his vision was spinning and he was fighting to keep his balance. "How did he manage to--"

He didn't continue.

Susan wanted to go to him, to put her arms around him, to comfort him. But she didn't understand why she was mentally stopping herself. Was she still thinking that he hated her for all that happened? Or was she feeling horrible knowing that she had told him that Caspian had come to see her but not him?

"I don't know," her voice was barely above a whisper. "But he was... acting strange. Very strange."

"It's Jadis. That Witch is messing with his head."

"Maybe. I--" she trailed off. Another reason why it took her three days to tell Peter about this: she couldn't find words to say because she herself hadn't fully grasped yet the meaning of that sudden conversation that Caspian had came for.

Peter looked up at her, his blue eyes piercing her own. "What did he say?"

"Nothing," she winced. _Then I guess the next time we'll meet, we'll be enemies_. "There was something wrong with him."

"Why?"

"He was not like himself. He was... acting strange. He--" she paused. "He wanted me to go back to my world."

"Because he didn't want to see you get hurt?" he chuckled sadly. "Funny, because he's leading the Witch's army against us himself."

"I think the Witch has done something to him, Peter. Something bad."

Peter sighed then took the seat beside him. He put his head on his hands then closed his eyes.

"Then he's way beyond our help now," he said.

Susan's jaw dropped. Was he thinking on giving up on Caspian? On his brother?

"You're not seriously thinking on abandoning him, are you?" she asked.

"Then what do you want me to do, Su?" he looked at him, his blue eyes rimmed with tears. "Because I'm already way over my head here. Three days from now, I'm going to lead another war and I am greatly outnumbered but I have to win this or Narnia will fall. My brother is now my enemy and Aslan, who promised that he will help us, has gone silent. I--" his voice broke.

"This is my fault," Susan spoke, her own voice a muffle.

"No, Su, don't even dare--"

"No, don't _you_ even dare to say it's not, Peter, because you know that it is. The moment I came here, _everything_ has gone to crap." Her own tears are now threatening to fall. She heaved a breath. "I never should have come."

"Susan--" Peter stood up and started towards her.

"Don't--" she moved away from his hands that were about to hold her. "Just, don't."

Then she left.


	50. Preparations

Two days later, as Peter had predicted, King Lune's army from Archenland came. He spared thousands of men to fight with the King of Narnia against Caspian and the Witch's army. His twin sons, Cor and Corin, led the army themselves. Seeing the both of them, Peter couldn't help but remember the first war he led against the Witch together with his own twin brother. His twin brother who would be on the other side of the battlefield in the morrow.

That afternoon, Peter was to leave Cair Paravel for the plains of Beruna where the Narnian army, together with the Archenlanders, was encamped waiting for him. One of his eagle scouts had reported to him that morning that the Witch's army is nearing and it was only a matter of time before they would be upon the Narnians. Susan and Edmund would be accompanying him.

As he had also predicted, Edmund and Susan got into a heated fight because of that. Susan didn't want her brother. Edmund agreed, on the condition that Susan would also stay at Cair,. Susan refused, saying she wouldn't just "sit back" and let the Narnians fight for their life because of something that she had done. Edmund, reasoned with her again that none of it was her fault but Susan wouldn't listen (really, what made him think she'd listen to him this time.) He also told her, in a moment of rare vulnerability, that he didn't want her to fight because he didn't want to see her get hurt and because wars are ugly affairs, especially for girls. Enraged by the word 'girls', it took all of Susan's willpower not to punch him. 

Finally, because neither would back down, they decided they would both fight.

Though, the youngest Pevensie didn't even stand a chance when she asked if she could come.

Before leaving, Peter made sure the castle was well defended. Although the eagle scouts assured him that there were no other of the Witch's troops that were going any other path than what her army had taken, Peter was not taking any chances. And it seemed that Susan had read his mind. She left the Horn of Narnia in the possession of Mr. Tumnus, making him promise to blow the horn if they'd need any help. Peter figured at first that they would be in need of it in the battlefield, but since Cair Paravel is the capital of Narnia and the downfall of it would also be the downfall of the land, he knew that Susan made the right choice.

Peter and Susan didn't get the chance to talk again after their conversation (though conversation was an overstatement) in the council room. The King of Narnia had planned to approach her before he went down to the treasure chambers to retrieve his armor but he didn't get the chance to see her. As he donned his armor (silver ringmail with the gold lion against red on his chest; silver pauldrons, gauntlets, grieves, and helmet) and strapped his sword, Rhindon, around his waist and his silver shield with a blood red lion in the middle on his back, he thought about what he would say to her. Considering how their previous encounter ended, Peter was in a panic to grope proper words immediately if he wanted to talk to her again before the fighting starts. It would not do for him to die and leaving his relationship with the daughter of Eve unsettled.

As he and Edmund waited for Susan in the courtyard, him feeding Flisk with apples and Edmund saddling his brown horse he had taken to call Phillip, Peter kept looking at the Tree of Protection. The apple tree no longer has any leaves nor any branches. The only thing that remained of the tree that previously guarded the whole of Narnia from evil forces was its dead bark.

Peter wondered if there was still any hope for the tree. Or if Aslan would let him go on a quest to the very edge of Narnia in the west to retrieve another apple and replace the dead Tree of Protection.

His thoughts were cut short by Susan emerging from Cair Paravel's oaken double front doors.

Her long raven hair was tied on an elegant braid. She was wearing a red ankle-length skirt and a brown leather was strapped around her bodice over her ringmail. Her white quiver filled with her bow and red-feathered arrows was on her back.

She was the most beautiful Narnian warrior Peter had ever seen.

Their eyes met momentarily before Susan looked away and approached Edmund. Peter snapped his attention back to the present.

The younger Pevensie was dressed similarly to Peter. Though instead of silver, Edmund had leather pauldrons, greaves, and gauntlets, like Susan. Though Peter was pretty sure although looked like leather, it was as hard as the silver ones adorned on his armor. Edmund also had the golden lion on red on his chest and ringmail. His sword, crafted for him by Cair's best swordsmith on Peter's orders, were dangling on his side. A round shield was on his back.

Edmund gaped at her elder sister though he didn't say anything. Then he switched his gaze to Peter.

Peter cleared his throat. "Ready? Once we're there..." he paused, thinking about the looming battle in the morrow. A clenching feeling wrestled in his stomach; fear. Fear that was much greater than when he first fought the Witch. Maybe because this time he has so much to lose. "...there's no going back."

Edmund nodded, climbing up into the back of Phillip's horse. The way he held himself on horseback, he looked as regal as a King, Peter thought. "I've trained for months for this. I'm ready."

Susan nodded, too, without looking at Peter as he accepted Edmund's outstretched hand and got into Phillip's back. He remembered that day when he first met her and she had ridden Flisk to Cair Paravel with him.

He hadn't loved her yet back then.

"Let's get this over with."

***

When they arrived at the camp at nightfall, Cor, Corin, Oreuis, and Mr. Tumnus were waiting for them. Oreius and Mr. Tumnus immediately went to Peter the minute he got down from his unicorn and reported to him the whereabouts of the Witch's army ("At dawn, they'll be here," said Mr. Tumnus) and the current status of the Narnian army, ("We are prepared, Your Majesty, awaiting only your orders. The Archenlanders are now settled. They are two thousand strong, though we are still greatly outnumbered by the enemy.) The King of Narnia barely had time to straighten his blonde hair when he took off his helmet before the two Narnians started talking.

Susan, who hadn't had the chance to look properly at Peter back at Cair's courtyard, couldn't help but stare at him as he talked with Oreuis and Mr. Tumnus.

She had never seen him with his armor before and she thought he looked very kingly. Looking at Peter in full battle gear, he looked exactly what Susan had imagined everytime she read books about knights back in England. Even his messy blond hair complimented his form, making him look handsome as ever.

Their last encounter in the council room burned into Susan's mind. She felt horrible with how she treated Peter. He just wanted to make her feel better but she responded by behaving like the stubborn and annoying arse that she was. She didn't even have the heart to tell neither Edmund or Lucy.

Susan was sure that if ever Edmund would know about that, he would never forgive her. He was always the one encouraging her to talk to Peter after they got back from the Emperor's country; always telling her how thick she was if she really think that Peter hated her. She had noticed the smile on her brother's face that day in the council room when she said she wanted to talk to Peter. And Lucy? Peter was like the older brother she never had. If her siblings would know that she had blown her chance to reconcile with Peter, she was afraid that they would disown her.

That was why Susan didn't know how to approach Peter. The guilty feeling in her chest was clouding her mind to form words that would make Peter forgive her. It was so similar from the first day that she met him that she laughed mentally at the feeling of de javu.

She was determined to talk to him before the battle but she was slowly losing her chance, seeing him walking away with Oreuis and Mr. Tumnus. That moment at the courtyard should have been a good one when she caught him looking at her but words had failed her.

Susan almost didn't notice Cor approaching her.

"Your Majesty," Cor did a little curtsy.

"Cor, please, its Susan," she said.

Cor smiled. "You look beautiful and fierce, Susan. The Witch will never know what hit her."

Susan blushed. "Thank you," she said. Out of the twins, Cor was the quiet one. Though Susan knew that he was as fierce as Peter in the battlefield. Corin, who at the moment was talking animatedly with Edmund, looked more like the warrior type. Maybe because Cor was raised by an abusive Calormen who would readily punish him for merely breathing. "Let's hope that I'll live long enough to face her."

"I'm sure Edmund won't let anyone hurt you," Cor said. "Let alone, Peter. Or should I say, Sebastian."

"He doesn't go by that," she said. The Archenlanders were also told about Peter and Caspian's heritage. Like the Narnians, shock was an understatement to what they were feeling when they knew that the two Kings of Narnia were practically enemies the moment they were born and not related as what they had originally known.

"It's hard," Cor said quietly. "Discovering that who you really are is far from who you thought you were."

Susan didn't respond. Cor must have known it best. Growing up, he thought he was just a nobody: a son of a Calormen fisherman. And then suddenly, he discovered that he was actually the long lost son of a King. Hard was a simple way to call it when it was much more complicated than that.

The both of them were silent for a while, gazing at the rows and rows of tents spread out in front of them. Then, having just noticed that they were alone (Edmund and Corin had already left while Phillip and Flisk were taken away by a satyr to be fed) Cor turned to Susan.

"Forgive me, you must be tired, after that ride from Cair Paravel," the Prince of Archenland said. "Allow me to escort you to your tent, Susan. You must rest. You're gonna need all your strength tomorrow." He offered his left arm for her to take. As if on cue, Susan's back started to ache after sitting on horseback for hours. And her quiver wasn't helping.

"Thank you, Cor," Susan said, placing her right hand under Cor's left elbow. "And thank you, for responding to Peter's call."

"Narnia had helped Archenland during its hour of need," Cor answered. "It's our pleasure to return the favor."

"The White Witch though," she continued, as Cor led her in between the red tents to her own. "She's nothing like Archenland had ever faced before."

"They are all the same, Your Majesty," Cor replied. "Because they will all fall; evil always falls."

Susan thought of Caspian, the King of Narnia who was leading the enemy's army against his own land. She wondered if there was still a chance to get him back before he, too, could fall.


	51. Momentums

Dawn found Peter astride his unicorn, full armor on, Rhindon on his side, and the visor of his helmet up, with the Narnian and Archenland army on his back.

On Peter's right side was Oreuis, two swords dangling on his left side and another one on his right. On Peter's left side was Edmund sitting on his brown horse. He had no helmet on, only his sword and shield. Cor were among the Archenlanders behind them and Corin was with Susan and the archers. The twins of Archenland chose to be with their people and merely follow Peter's orders. Peter had wanted to have them close to him so that he could keep an eye on the twins (he would never forgive himself if any harm would come to those two; he had already regretted asking King Lune's help in a battle that was supposed to be his alone) but he knew that if it the situation was reversed, he too would want to stay with his army.

About a few paces behind the front lines stood the archers made up with dozens of fauns, centaurs, dwarves, as well as hundreds of the Archenlanders. Susan was with them, her bow on her hand and her quiver full of red-feathered arrows strapped to her back. On either side of her, both in full armor, were Trumpkin and Corin. The dwarf was leaning on his bow which was almost as tall as him while the Prince was staring intently at the edge of the woods a hundred yards from where they were standing, anticipation on his face as he waited for the enemy to appear.

Susan's heartbeat was slowly racing as she continued to stare at Edmund's back. She worried about him. Even though she was assured multiple times by him that there was nothing for her to worry about, but still... he was just a bloody _thirteen-year-old_ boy! Let alone her brother! She was practically his parent all these years of them being orphans. It was her job to worry.

And then there was Peter.

The night before, when the whole army tried to catch their much needed sleep, Susan had half the mind to leave her tent and sought Peter out but didn't. She tried to tell herself that it wouldn't do to disturb him when he need all the rest he could get before the battle but really, it was her stupid pride and cowardice that was stopping her from going over to his tent and apologize.

And now, she wouldn't have the chance to talk to him again until after the battle is over.

Assuming both of them will survive.

Susan wanted to bang her forehead against her bow.

Trumpkin seemed to sense her discomfort. "Are you okay, Your Majesty?"

Susan exhaled uneasily. "Fine. It's just..." she didn't know what to say. "This feels much more different than those archery practices of ours."

Trumpkin chuckled half-heartedly. "Believe me, Your Majesty, the--"

The sound of a horn interrupted whatever the dwarf was about to say. At first, Susan thought one of the Narnians had sounded it. Then she realised it came from the general direction of the woods.

***

The opposing army is large.

Peter didn't bother to calculate how many minions the Witch had managed to gather against him and just trusted Mr. Tumnus' "tens of thousands" because just the sight of the never-ending army marching out of the woods, stretching as far as his eye could see, was enough to make his knees shake against Flisk's side.

He was greatly outnumbered.

When the enemy stopped, their front lines were only a catapult away from Peter.

Peter could sense the uneasiness of the Narnians and Archenlanders behind him. He could hear Edmund's sharp intake of breath on his side. And it took much of his willpower to stop his hands from trembling, both because he need to maintain his brave facade for the sake of his army and because he was still holding on to Flisk's reins and it would not do for the unicorn to charge unexpectedly to the enemy's ranks (though Peter had ridden the unicorn many times now to know that Flisk was too smart for that.)

Still, Peter couldn't help but take a sharp intake of breath of his own.

And then, he saw him.

Riding a black horse that was similar to his own, Destrier, dressed in black leather armor and boots with no helmet, Caspian broke out of the woods. A winged creature, a raven, was perched on his right shoulder. His army made a path for him to the front lines.

Even by the distance between them, Peter could feel Caspian's gaze burning against his own.

A surge of emotion overcame Peter's chest. He badly wanted to talk to Caspian. His brain couldn't form a coherent sentence to start a conversation with him, true, but... he just really wanted to get close to his brother. To apologize for all of the things that were causing the rift between them now. The urge to span the hundred meters of distance between him and Caspian was burning that Peter's heartbeat was starting to go out of control.

Suddenly, the raven on Caspian's shoulder took flight and, to Peter's surprise, headed to his direction. Behind him, among the archers, he could vaguely hear an order to hold, probably to stop someone from shooting the raven out of the sky. Peter felt grateful. Because he sensed that the raven was carrying a message to him.

A message from Caspian.

***

"What is he doing?" Susan couldn't help but ask loudly as she saw Peter leave the front lines and head towards the open field between them and the Witch's army.

Trumpkin, trying to look past the few ranks of the Narnians in front of them to catch a glimpse of the front lines but failing, only shrugged. Corin, who was as tall as Susan, said, "Maybe he wants to talk to Caspian."

Without even saying a word, because her brain was too preoccupied with worrying about Edmund and now doubling upon seeing Peter heading into the enemy's front lines, Susan left the archers and ran towards Edmund and Oreuis.

"Where is he going?" Susan asked Edmund, barely panting.

"Caspian sent a raven," Edmund replied, looking down at his sister. "He wants to talk to Peter."

Confused and worried, Susan watched as Peter and Caspian met at the center of the open field between their two armies. She saw the both of them dismount and approach each other. Her heartbeat started to race.

What could Caspian possibly wanted to talk about with Peter? Did he finally decide to go back to them? But Caspian already made it clear when he came to her that night that there was no chance of him going back. Was he offering a deal? A truce? Would Peter accept? Or was she right on assuming during their talk in the council room days ago that he was completely abandoning Caspian?

The Narnians and Archenlanders were in a state of unrest behind her and Susan was breathing so fast now and had half the mind to demand Oreuis why he didn't accompany Peter when she saw Peter quickly mounting Flisk, in anger or in a hurry Susan wasn't sure, and rode back towards them. She saw Caspian mounting his own horse, but in a much more slower manner.

For a moment, Susan had the crazy urge to go to him and beg him one last time to come back to them. But when Caspian turned his back to them and headed calmly back to his ranks, Susan knew he was now out of her reach.

And when he dismounted Flisk a few paces from her, when she caught a glimpse of his blue eyes clouding over with tears as he got down on the ground and took off his helmet, Susan knew that Peter had just realized that, too.

Susan didn't hesitate to walk towards Peter and take him into her arms, letting him take ragged breaths against her neck. She didn't care that the whole Narnian and Archenland army, as well as the enemy, were looking at them and might think him weak. She just held him.

"The Witch has taken over his body," Peter said. "She-- her spirit, is inside him. He's... gone."

Susan didn't say any words of comfort. She couldn't. How could she when she, too, felt like collapsing?

So that was why Caspian was acting unhinged when he sought out to see her. Susan's thoughts were spiraling out of control but she needed to keep them in check for Peter's sake.

"What did he say?" she whispered.

"He..." he took another deep, ragged breath. "He gave me a chance to surrender. He said that if I could just... give up, he would spare you and everyone and... Su, his eyes..."

"Listen to me," Letting go of the bow on her left hand, Susan took Peter's cheeks on both of her hands. "Look at me."

His sky blue eyes and her hazel blue ones met.

She desperately wanted to kiss him then and there but she knew she shouldn't.

"We can do this," she said, softly and slowly, staring deeply into his eyes to convey that she meant it. That she believed it. That, even though the enemy's crushing numbers was trying to diminish that belief, she still believed it.

Her words seemed to clear his thoughts because, suddenly, Peter was looking at her as if in a strange, new light. His sky blue orbs regained its brave, persistent, beautiful gaze that she loved.

"We can do this," he repeated.

And it was like the both of them were jolted back into the present. And when they made sense of their surroundings again, the enemy was now charging towards them.

Peter turned around and mounted Flisk in one swift motion. Susan retrieved her bow on the ground and took Peter's outstretched hand. Before she knew it, she was on Flisk's back again, Peter in front of her, just like that one morning years ago when she had just met this blonde-haired King of Narnia.

Susan turned her head to the side and looked at Edmund. Her younger brother returned his gaze and slightly nodded. She smiled softly and nodded back.

 _He can take care of himself,_ she reassured herself. _He's smart like our father._

The enemy were now only an arrowshot away and Susan's grip on Peter's waist tightened.

"Don't let go," Peter said.

"Never," she answered.


	52. Devastations

Chaos.

Everything was in chaos around Susan.

Glints of armors, swords flashing against swords, arrows flying, knives flashing... and bodies. Everywhere. The sun had just broken out to the sky and was shining above the hills behind the Narnian army and already, it illuminated a field filled with the bodies of Narnians, Archenlanders, and the enemies.

And Susan was already tired. She just wanted to rest. To just lay down her bow and arrows, curl up in the corner and sleep. Perhaps, cry. But she knew she couldn't. Even though a part of her was still chasing the thought of how all of these chaos was her fault from her mind, still... this was her fault. But she couldn't afford to think about that now. What mattered to her the most for the moment was her bow and arrows and how she could possibly send those arrows into an enemy's body on one second without her dropping dead on the ground on the next.

Her fingers were aching. Her feet were burning. Her ears were buzzing with all the screams around her and yet, she continued to send arrow after arrow from her bow without even bothering to see who got hit. The enemy were too many around her that she didn't need to squint and concentrate to hit one.

Edmund was still on his horse. Somehow, he acquired a crossbow and was shooting while riding around the plain, his brown eyes losing their childhood playfulness and replaced by intense concentration. Susan thought he was doing a great job and was starting to wonder how she didn't notice that he was actually good with a bow.

Peter was a few paces from her, slashing, hacking with his sword and smacking with his shield. Somehow, his helmet got lost in the fight, possibly when the both of them got knocked down from Flisk's back, and a trail of blood was forming above his eyebrows.

Peter met her gaze briefly but quickly looked away as he ducked and slashed a Minotaur that was attacking him.

Susan turned around too, reached for another arrow on her back and discovered that only one remained. Groaning mentally, she sent her last arrow into the neck of a leaping hag. A few paces in front of her, a dead black Dwarf had a protruding sword on his chest. Susan unstrung her bow, stuffed it into her quiver, then ran towards the sword. As soon as she freed the sword, a wolf came leaping at her. She sidestepped and slashed at its legs and the creature came down howling.

And then something hit Susan in the face and, for a moment, she staggered and she felt blinded by the searing pain. When she regained senses, she discovered that it was a Minotaur. She shook her head slightly to stop the world from spinning then ducked when the Minotaur swiped at her with its axe. And then another searing pain sent her stumbling to the ground and saw a black Dwarf in front of her, another axe on his hand.

The Dwarf raised it and Susan, having just grasped the fact that she was holding a sword and how it could be really useful at that moment, when the Dwarf suddenly doubled over and fell on its back, a knife on its chest. She quickly looked around and saw Peter, hand still outstretched, and quickly sidestepping a bear leaping at him and slashed it with his sword.

Susan then tore her gaze away from him and quickly got up. She charged towards the Minotaur that was previously attacking her then skidded to the ground at the last second and slashed at the creatures beefy legs. When the Minotaur fell, Susan slashed at its neck. Suddenly, she remembered the way how Peter killed that Minotaur he saved her from.

Peter was suddenly on her side, holding her arms.

"Are you okay?" he held her face and looked at the gash on her temple where the Minotaur had hit her.

Susan couldn't help from rolling her eyes. "I'm fine, Peter. And for the record, I had that dwarf under control."

Peter cracked a smile. "I know."

Susan glanced momentarily at the ugly gash above his eyebrow and knew she probably now looked as terrible as him.

Suddenly, his blue eyes widened. "Duck."

She got down and she didn't have time to look at why because she spotted a hag charging towards them. Susan greeted her with her sword.

Susan managed to look around her and saw that the enemy's numbers didn't even seem to diminish. Whereas theirs... she looked around at the bodies littered around the field and could only see the fauns, centaurs, and men (Archenlanders) lying unmoving.

She continued fighting. She and Peter went back-to-back, slashing and hacking away with their swords against any enemy that would come near them. Whenever she could spot a red-feathered arrow protruding from a body, she would find a way to retrieve it. She would even go with an arrow which she felt could fit with her bow (this was a lesson she learned earlier when she accidentally used an arrow that was made for a Dwarf's bow and almost killed an Archenlander because she miscalculated.) Even though she proved alright in swordfighting, she would still feel better if it was a bow in her hand. When she looked back at her quiver and saw that she had enough arrows, she let go of her sword and drew her bow.

 _Now_ this _feels like it,_ Susan thought as she ducked, twirled, and shoot. When she shot a hag that was about to get her hands around Peter's neck and the arrow whizzed past inches from his nose and into the hag's forehead, he couldn't help but look at her in alarm.

"You promised you would stop doing _that_!" he said, kicking a black Dwarf away then swiping at it with his sword.

"I'm sorry!" Susan couldn't help but grin.

It felt like hours later when Susan saw Caspian joining the fight and was sending Narnian after Narnian to his death. As she watched, he was merciless as he slashed and hacked away with his double sword at any Narnian who would dare come even an arm's reach from him. Upon seeing Caspian, the enemy rallied and seemed to regain more strength.

In the corner of her eye, Susan saw Peter freeze beside her.

 _Aslan, where are you?_ she thought despairingly.

And it was as if Susan's world stopped spinning when she saw Edmund, still on horseback and his sword drawn, charged towards Caspian.

"Oh, no," she hyperventilated. "Edmund, STOP!"

Edmund managed to knock Caspian down from his horse. He turned his horse around and came swiping at Caspian with his sword. But if her brother succeeded, Susan didn't know because another Minotaur came at her in front and broke her gaze. She pulled an arrow from her quiver. As she ducked away from its axe, she fitted the arrow into her bow and released it into the creature's right eye. It roared then stumbled towards her, arms raised. Behind her, Peter tossed a knife. Surprisingly, she managed to catch it on the hilt and, a split second later, drove it to the Minotaur's chest.

Just as she returned his worried gaze back to her brother's direction, Susan saw Caspian deflecting Edmund's sword with his left sword and stabbing him at his side with his right.

And then Susan lost herself.

***

A voice was screaming at the top of its lungs. And Peter knew it was Susan.

Before he could stop her, she was running towards Caspian/the Witch's direction with a bow on her left hand and a knife on her right.

As he raced behind her, Peter knew that if Susan would reach the Witch (Peter couldn't afford to think that _that_ creature is Caspian) before him, she would be dead. Whatever that creature who was in his brother's place had Caspian's skills in battle. And Susan would never stand a chance.

The Witch looked at them running towards him and a smiled played over his lips, as if anticipating their company, and Peter willed himself to go faster.

He need to reach him first before her.

Fortunately, a few meters on his right, Peter caught Oreuis' eye and his General seemed to understand. The centaur ran towards the Witch, both his swords drawn.

The centaur reached him before Peter and Susan and immediately engaged him in combat, distracting the Witch from them both. Susan, upon seeing Edmund sprawled on the ground, seemed to abandon her initial thought of fighting the Witch and went over to her brother.

A cry behind Peter made him turn around. And he saw the Witch struck Oreuis where his man-chest and his horse legs joined. The centaur immediately dropped dead.

The Witch caught his gaze and he smirked. His icy blue eyes stared back at him.

Icy blue instead of Caspian's warm chocolate.

Yelling, Peter charged at him.

He swiped at him with Rhindon but the Witch easily deflected it with his sword. He parried in return and brought the whole strength of his double swords into Peter's direction. But Peter raised his shield in defense. In that moment, Peter met his icy blue gaze and held them.

"Caspian, please," Peter managed to say. Because he just couldn't stop the feeling that Caspian was still inside that body. "It's not too late."

Even though he had already heard it when Caspian/the Witch offered him a deal, it still sent sharp tingles down his spine when he heard the voice, a mixture of the Witch's and Caspian's, said, "Caspian's gone, Peter dear. And you will be soon enough, don't worry."

The Witch jerked his arms and suddenly, Peter was on the ground, his vision dizzy. He got up and was about to attack the Witch again when he saw him doing some sort of awkward dance. It was when he shook his head to bring his vision back into focus that he saw Susan sending arrow after arrow to the Witch and that he was dodging them.

At first, Peter thought something had happened to Edmund but he was still breathing and gasping, clutching his side where the Witch had struck him.

When Susan's quiver emptied, she tossed aside her bow, picked up Edmund's sword, rose to her feet, and charged at the Witch.


	53. Hopes

When her blue eyes met Caspian's icy blue ones, Susan momentarily felt numb.

When she raised Edmund's sword and was about to attack Caspian, he caught a glimpse of his strange, new eyes and her knees buckled.

 _The Witch has taken over his body,_ Peter had said. _He's gone. His eyes..._

Yet, when they stared at each other, the icy cold gaze seemed to lessen and a hint of the chocolate brown ones of Caspian's surfaced.

"Susan?" Caspian asked, his tone confused. Both his grip on his double sword lessened.

Before Susan could react, Caspian doubled over and screamed. At first, she thought Peter might have struck him from behind but Peter was still a few paces from them.

And then, Caspian was on his feet again and was charging towards her. Susan managed to deflect his right blow then blocked his left with her sword but she knew that Caspian/the Witch clearly was much better than her in swordfight and she stood no chance.

Still, Edmund was on the ground behind her. When she had reached him and found him gasping for breath, her tears were already clouding her vision and she found herself gasping for breath, too. She couldn't bear herself to just sit there and hold Edmund's hand while watching him struggle for life. She had to do something.

Peter attacked the Witch from behind but he easily turned around and raised his right sword against Peter's. Susan saw her chance and swiped at the Witch's legs but he quickly sidestepped out of the way and slashed at Susan. She ducked at the last moment just as Peter did a magnificent twirl with his sword against the Witch's left one and sent the sword clattering to the ground.

Susan advanced behind the Witch and was about to hack at his back when the Witch deflected it by bringing his sword behind him to meet Susan's strike and, with a yell, jerked it upward strongly, which made Susan almost lost her grip on her sword, to meet Peter's strike in front of him.

Peter and Susan kept this facade against the Witch for a few minutes, the both of them trying hard to maintain their footing against the unbelievable strength of the Witch.

Susan knew that if it was just Caspian alone, Peter could have easily defeated him (Susan had heard enough stories to know that Peter is the best swordsman in Narnia and no one could defeat him, not even Caspian) but this creature they are facing was neither Caspian nor the Witch. He was _both_.

As they parried and struck together, Susan could see that Peter was trying hard to keep the Witch's attention away from her and direct it to himself. Even when she practically volunteered to die the moment she picked up Edmund's sword, Peter was still trying to protect her.

 _But_ , Susan dared to hope, _he's not the only one._

Whenever their eyes meet, Susan couldn't fight the feeling that Caspian still recognized her. That, somehow, a part of him was still inside that body. Because if it was fully Jadis in there, Susan knew she would already be dead. The Witch already had a lot of chance to decapitate her (everytime Peter went unsuccessful to grab his full attention) and yet, instead of going for the actual kill, he would only give her a swipe of his sword that even Lucy could easily deflect. Maybe the Witch wasn't really aiming to kill her yet (only wound her and kill her later in a much more slow and painful fashion) but Susan couldn't shake the feeling that Caspian might be pulling the punches.

After all, he recognized her when their eyes first met. He even managed to say Susan's name before he doubled over, clutching his temple as if he was having a terrible headache.

And, Edmund... the Witch wouldn't have hesitated to stab him straight to the heart. Her brother meant nothing to the Witch. And yet, he got struck on his hip where there is a lot of chance for him to live.

 _Caspian is still there,_ Susan thought.

When Susan delivered an upward slash of her sword on the Witch's back, he easily turned around and blocked it with his sword. He locked their swords with a twist of his own then gave a sudden jerk with his wrist. Susan's sword clattered to the ground. Then a searing pain hit her square on the face and suddenly, she was on the ground.

She heard Peter made an incoherent scream and engaged the Witch in a single combat. Susan tried to get up but she couldn't stop her vision from spinning. She brought her fingers to her nose and it came back bleeding.

Susan looked on, feeling useless, as Peter fought the Witch. He looked vulnerable, without his shield and with that look in his eyes. Susan knew that with every strike he gave the Witch, it was wounding him. It was one thing to face the Witch herself in combat but facing her in his own brother's body? Susan knew it was killing Peter.

Susan tried to get up again but she felt like she was having a concussion. Giving a groan, she crawled to Edmund's side.

"Why do you persist, Peter?"

It was the first time Susan heard that voice and it sent daggers up her spine. Susan never heard the Witch's voice before but the voice that just spoke... it was Caspian's... but wasn't.

"It's hopeless and you know it," the voice continued. "Are you waiting for Aslan?" The Witch gave a snort. "Do you still expect that that Lion who ruined your life will come and help you?"

Peter yelled again and, with all his strength, hacked at the Witch but he blocked it and held Peter in his gaze. "Look around you, little King," the Witch mocked. "You've lost."

Susan, holding Edmund's right hand, couldn't help but look around her. Through her blurring vision, she could see Narnians being knocked down on the ground everywhere. She could see Cor fighting three enemies at once. Corin was trying hard to dodge a giant's club but went flying went he got hit. And a few paces from her, she saw Oreius' lifeless body sprawled on the ground.

And then, it was as if like a dream, a loud roar filled the vast plains of Beruna.

Susan looked for him because who else could sound that big, mighty roar that made their enemy's knees tremble?

And then she saw him. Perched on the top of the hills, the sunlight shining behind him, making him look like a golden sun looking down upon the fields. A tiny figure was sitting on his back, and even by these distance, Susan didn't fail to notice that brown hair flying with the morning wind. Lucy.

Aslan had come.

With renewed strength, Peter gave a yell and started hacking and slashing at the Witch. The Witch was too busy glaring angrily at Aslan that Susan almost thought Peter could have killed him but he blocked his first swing at the last second. But he delivered slash after slash that the Witch was having a hard time to block them.

Susan saw Peter's blue eyes clouding over as if he was about to cry.

And then, Susan caught a glimpse of the Witch's icy blue eyes and she saw Caspian's chocolatey ones starting to surface again.

When Peter disarmed the Witch, knocked him down on the ground, and pointed Rhindon straight to his chest, Susan screamed, "Peter, NO!"

Peter looked up at her, his eyes shining with suppressed tears.

"Susan," he said. "Caspian's gone."

"No," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Look at him."

Peter looked down at the Witch and it seemed like he too saw the slight change in his gaze.

"Peter..."

Peter's blade slowly lowered from Caspian's chest.

"Brother, I--" The Witch gave a guttural scream. Then he swiped his legs under Peter, causing the blonde-haired King to topple to the ground. The Witch got up to his knees, balled his fist, and punched Peter in the face.

"Caspian!" Susan yelled. She let go of Edmund's hand. She clenched her eyes tight and forced herself to get up. Somehow, as she stood up, her hand clutched the knife that she had discarded on the ground the second she reached Edmund. "Fight her!"

"No!" The Witch made to punch Peter again but Peter blocked his fist and held it there, inches from his nose.

"Caspian, listen to me!" Peter grunted against the Witch's strength. "Jadis abandoned you when you were a baby. When she gave birth to you, she gave you back to your father because she didn't want you."

"I will crush you," the Witch pushed against Peter but he managed to keep him right in front of him. Susan couldn't believe that Peter, half dead from exhaustion and pain of fighting his brother that was not actually his brother, managed to counter the Witch's unwordly strength.

"And when you got lost in the woods," Peter continued through gritted teeth. "...she didn't even bother to look for you. She didn't even bother to know if you were alive or dead."

"At least, she was honest with me and didn't make me look like a fool in front of the whole country!" the Witch pushed hard against Peter.

"We're sorry, Caspian," Susan said. She was on her feet now and barely even noticing the knife that she was clutching on her right hand. "We're sorry that we kept it from you. We just didn't know what to say. We didn't want to hurt you."

"Hurt me?" the Witch screamed. "You ruined my life!" He pulled his fist away from Peter's grip then punched him again. He reached over on his right for his sword on the ground and pointed the end straight against Peter's chest.

Susan surged forward to stop him, her spinning vision threatening to topple her to the ground. But before she could reach them, Peter croaked out. "You promised Father, Caspian."

The Witch staggered. He looked at the blade that, with just a little shove, could plunge straight to Peter's heart. Then he looked at Peter straight in the eye, then gasped, as if he was having trouble breathing. "Pete?"

And it was Caspian's voice. His warm, soothing voice that gave Susan comfort back to those days when she had just found out about the prophecy.

Without meaning to, Susan surged forward and slowly, eased the sword from Caspian's grip.

Caspian looked at her. "Susan?"

Her vision started swimming again but it wasn't because of her concussion.

"Caspian," Peter spoke. "What can we do to get that Witch out of you?"

"I--" Caspian screamed. He clutched his temple again, rolled off Peter's chest and knelt on the ground. "She's fighting me!"

"Brother," Peter knelt beside him and gripped his shoulder's tightly. "Focus on my voice, alright? You can beat her!"

"She's--" Caspian's voice broke. "She's strong."

"Not as strong as you," Susan said. "Caspian, what can we do to reverse the spell she had done on you?"

"You--" Caspian clutched his temple again, his eyes shut tight. "You can't!"

"No spell is irreversible," Peter looked around them. With that desperate look in his eyes, Susan was sure he was looking for Aslan.

"To kill Jadis..." Caspian opened his eyes and looked at Peter. "I must die."


	54. Decisions

Peter quickly scrambled out of Caspian's way.

Susan took a step back.

All the voices around them seemed to blur into the background and all that was left were Caspian's splitting screams and his words resounding in their heads over and over.

_I must die._

_I must die._

_I must die._

"Quickly!" Caspian screamed, trembling from his kneeling position on the ground as he put both his hands on his head. Blindly, he groped for his sword around him but he found nothing.

Peter and Susan stared at each other, the looks in their blue eyes mirrored each other. Horror, shock, and disbelief.

Peter was the first who recovered, though his eyes were starting to cloud over. He put his hands on his brother's wrists, trying to get him to look at him. "That's not gonna happen."

"I must! And I must do it myself." Caspian tightened his hands around his head even more, his eyes clamped shut so tightly that Peter wondered if they were gonna open again. "I'm the only one who--" He interrupted himself by screaming again.

Peter watched on, feeling like his chest was tearing to pieces as Caspian gripped his head like he was about to take it off his shoulders. He could feel the tears starting to flow through his cheeks.

"No, Caspian," Susan said. "I'm sure that's not the only way--"

"It is, Susan!" Caspian's head whipped up and he looked at Susan, his eyes wild. "This body is invincible. But I know one spot where it isn't-- but she's fighting me!"

Peter and Susan looked at each other with a crazed look in both their blue orbs.

If what Caspian said was true, that the body is invincible, then they have no hope in defeating the Witch. Unless they would try to find the one spot where the body could be penetrated but both of them doubted that the Witch would stay still while they do that; they could see how much it took Caspian to tell them about it all. And even if Peter and Susan tried not to think about giving Caspian a blade, how were they certain that if they would give him one the Witch wouldn't take over his body and kill them? And if Caspian could really manage to control the Witch long enough to kill her, it meant killing himself, too.

They have never felt so helpless in their life.

Susan tried to look around for Aslan but the Great Lion seemed to disappear. A sob was threatening to break free from her throat.

Peter's chest felt like it was being ripped to shreds.

Caspian was pleading now. "Please. I don't know if I can hold her much longer--" Both of his trembling hands were held out in front of him towards Susan.

Peter and Susan locked gazes again, both their blue eyes seemed to lost their colors.

And, in that moment, as Caspian continued to plead, the both of them knew what they were about to do.

Susan gave Peter the dagger she was clutching so tightly. Peter looked at the dagger for a few seconds, feeling its weight. He placed his other hand on the back of Caspian's head and rested their foreheads against each other. Peter then placed the dagger on Caspian's hand and got up to his feet.

Caspian took one ragged breath after another. The look in his eyes made Susan think that he was using all his strength left to keep the Witch from using the dagger to strike her and Peter dead.

Caspian looked at her and she felt like breaking then and there. Then he stared at Peter, and his gaze softened.

Caspian loosened his armor, undoing the straps and exposing the skin just above his waistline. Then, with difficulty, as if a strong force was stopping his arm from doing it, drove the dagger into his side.

The black-haired King of Narnia screamed in agony. The battlefield shook, sending Peter and Susan tumbling to the ground. A bluish white energy exploded outward from Caspian's body, blinding everyone around him. On the ground, with the white light striking fiercely, Susan could see a silhouette of a man kneeling but her eyes hurt so much that she shut them close tightly.

When the light receded, Caspian was lying on the ground bleeding, gasping for breath. Peter and Susan scrambled towards him. Peter gripped his hand while Susan stroke his cheeks.

"Caspian," Peter said softly, tears cascading from his blue eyes.

"Pete..." Caspian managed to say. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm--"

"No, brother," Peter said. "This is not your fault."

Caspian turned his gaze to Susan. "Su," he heaved a breath. "Did you--" he coughed violently. "--did you love me?"

"I--" Susan said, hesitating. She looked straight to his eyes, now brown. Then she looked at Peter. She wiped his tears away from her cheeks and looked back at Caspian. "I did. I feel-- I _am_ different when I'm with you."

"But you are yourself when you're with Peter," Caspian said, smiling, his lips glistening red.

"Caspian--" Susan started to say.

"It's okay," he coughed again. "I love you. I love you both. And there is no one better to lead the people of Narnia than the two of you. Together."

Caspian coughed violently again, his whole body shaking. More tears cascaded from Peter's cheeks. Susan closed her eyes, biting her lips.

"Pete," Caspian clutched Peter's hand tightly back. "Promise me-- take care of her."

Her. Narnia. Susan. All rolled into one.

Peter remembered when Caspian said that exact same thing to him that one morning long ago. He was also leaving back then. Although, this time, Peter knew he was not coming back.

"Always. I promise." he answered.

Caspian smiled softly. Then his hands went slack.

Peter and Susan didn't move. They knew the war was over around them, although how it ended they didn't know nor care. They remained where they were, still clinging to the hands of the person they both love.

"It's time," a voice spoke behind them. When the both of them turned to look, it was Aslan.

The Great Lion padded softly towards them. When he towered over them, he breathed on Peter and Susan's heads, the warmth from it made the hollow feeling in their chests lessen and the color in their eyes return.

Then Aslan breathed on Caspian's pale face. It took longer than when he did it on Peter and Susan but the both of them failed to notice it. Because, one moment, they were clutching Caspian's lifeless hands, and the next, they were clutching empty air.

When they looked up, Aslan was no longer there.

And around them, the war was won.


	55. Aftermath

Peter and Susan were unaware of the battle around them while they engaged the Witch in combat but it turned out that, when Aslan arrived at the battlefield, the Witch's army fled. At the mere sight of Aslan, every single one of the Witch's minions started screaming and running away. Whether it was because the Great Lion looked so majestic and powerful with the rising sun shining behind him and they were afraid or because they had stories of him and how, with his help, Peter and Caspian brought the downfall of their mistress during the First War, none of the Narnians knew.

After the battle, the Narnian and Archenland armies gathered up their dead and built a pyre in the middle of the battlefield to burn them. Oreius was burned separately from the army and Peter, along with Trumpkin, Nikabrik, and Glenstorm built the fallen General's pyre themselves.

Cor and Corin made it through, although Corin was sporting a large bruise on his left eye. But instead of fussing about it, the Prince of Archenland seemed to be proud of his bruise and kept pointing at it everytime anyone would ask him if he was alright.

Edmund was safe. When Susan and Peter finally gathered their senses, Susan saw Edmund sitting upright on the ground where she left him with Lucy by his side, clutching a small bottle with red liquid inside. She ran to her brother and tackled him into a bone-crushing hug while sobbing heavily into his shoulder. Edmund, who was never the crier, couldn't keep his own tears from falling as his elder sister showered his face with kisses. _We're safe_ , he thought as he buried his face against Susan's shoulders while his one hand gripped Lucy's. _My family was safe._

The Narnians and the Archenlanders knew that Caspian perished during the war. The whole country was muted with grief over Caspian's death, despite knowing that he was their enemy in the battlefield. Maybe the people were convinced that Caspian only did it because the Witch poisoned his mind or the Witch threatened his family, no one knew for sure. But for the Narnians and Archenlanders, Caspian was and always would be a King of Narnia and they didn't care that they fought on the opposite sides during the war. They mourned for him.

But somehow, knowing that they won the war made the Narnians and Archenlanders feel better. Maybe the fact knew that the greatest enemy Narnia has ever fought had finally been vanquished and that their families are safe back home has eased slightly their feeling of loss over their fallen King.

On the way back to Cair Paravel, Peter and Susan didn't leave each other's side, though they didn't talk about anything at all. When they finally got back to Cair Paravel, the both of them were busy helping the healers tend to the wounded that they hadn't had the chance to talk about what happened. They just sort of drifted around Cair, doing their duties but feeling blank. The person they both loved died in their arms; it left them hollow. Both of them felt numb, as if their legs would crumble beneath them with every step they'd take. Once in a while, they would meet in the hallways in passing, after being separated tending to the wounded and dealing with the aftermath. But they'd only take each other's hands, give them a comforting squeeze, and be on their separate ways again. They didn't talk.

They didn't talk about Caspian.

***

That night, Peter went to Caspian's bedchambers.

The night sky was ink blank, no trace of the Narnian stars. It was as if the sky also mourned the death of his brother.

He hadn't visited the place even before he knew that Caspian wasn't really his brother and that he had joined their enemy. Of course, back then, Peter knew he was still alive and breathing.

Peter ran his hands through his brother's sheets and went to the balcony overlooking the sea, overlooking the country. His country. The one that he saved at the expense of his brother.

He clutched the edge of the balcony tightly, his knuckles whitening.

 _No_ , he thought, _Caspian saved Narnia. Not me._

Softly and gently, a hand covered his own.

He didn't need to turn his head to the side to know that it was Susan.

"I miss him, too," she murmured beside him.

They locked gazes, blue against blue.

Susan tucked her arm under his and nuzzled her head against his neck.

The both of them stayed that way in a comfortable silence for a few heartbeats.

"Why do I have this strange feeling that Caspian is not dead?" Peter spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.

Susan didn't answer, not because she thought Peter was crazy for thinking like that but because she felt the same way, too.

"I don't know," Peter continued, his voice a bit choked. "It just feels... wrong. It's like--" he trailed off.

"I know," Susan murmured. "Me, too."

Tiny raindrops started pattering softly around them but they stayed where they were.

"Peter," Susan slowly let go of her grip on Peter's arm and turned to face him. "I--" she paused, hesitating. How could she say that she felt like the weight of the world was lifted from her shoulders knowing that he was safe? That she didn't know what would become of her if he didn't survive the battle? That it wouldn't be living if it was not with him?

Peter had just lost his brother. How could Susan say that she was relieved that he was alive?

Peter seemed to read his thoughts. He took hold of her hands and kissed her knuckles. He met her blue gaze.

"I know," he said.

They drank each other's presence. That they were both alive. That they were together.

They leaned into each other.

But suddenly, the ground beneath them seemed to give way and they both hurtled into darkness.

***

It seemed like forever before a blinding light broke from a sea of darkness and before they knew it, Peter and Susan landed on the ground, their hands still joined.

When they looked around they were on a beach.

A beach in the middle of the sea.

In full daylight.

In front of them was a wall of water, arching over their heads, like a gigantic wave that was about to wash over them but suddenly hit an invisible barrier. Behind them was the sea, as far as their eyes could see, and the horizon.

Susan, transfixed, proceeded to the wave with Peter still holding her hand, thrusting her other hand into the water. She didn't pull it out for a few seconds, loving the feel of it against her skin.

"Where are we?" Susan asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

She looked at Peter but he was looking at the large expanse of sea behind them. And it was then that Susan noticed that the sea was blanketed with white.

Lilies.

How could she fail to notice that before?

"The end of the world," Peter murmured.

"You mean..." Susan's blue eyes widened. "Aslan's country?"

"No, Your Majesty," a voice spoke. "My son's country lies beyond."

Susan and Peter turned to look to where the voice came from and the Emperor was there, in his human form, wearing a velvety, dark blue robe, his old, blue eyes glistening.

Susan didn't even bother to wonder how the Emperor came to be there. She had lived in Narnia for months now (or was it years? She truly lost track of time) to know that some things are best left unexplained.

Neither Peter nor Susan knew what to do. Were they supposed to kneel? The last time they had met the Emperor, he turned their worlds upside down and their parting was a bit unpleasant because of it. Were they supposed to apologize for that?

Peter looked up, and strangely, he saw mountains peeking out behind the wall of water in front of them.

"Why are we here, Your Grace?" Peter spoke quietly, his hand squeezing Susan's. It was strange how Susan forgot that they were still holding hands. It felt so right, their hands fit so perfectly together, like she had been holding Peter's hand all her life.

"Because," the Emperor smiled. "There is someone I want you to meet."

He stepped aside casually and behind him...

He was there. Standing. Alive.

And his eyes...

His chocolatey brown eyes.

"Hey."

And his voice. As warm as Susan remembered.

Peter released her hand and went over to his brother, slowly, like he was sleep walking. Susan could see Caspian's eyes clouding over with tears as Peter approached.

She felt her own tears cascading down her cheeks.

Peter hugged him fiercely, as if the whole world was spinning out of control and Caspian was his anchor to the ground. Caspian also clung to his brother as hard. Susan heard their sobs from where she was standing.

She didn't remember going over to Caspian but suddenly, she was hugging him and she was sobbing uncontrollably into his chest. He felt so warm. So alive.

"You're alive," Susan kept repeating. "You're _alive_."

"Yeah," Caspian managed to chuckle once they broke apart. "It seems I am."

"But..." Peter said. "You were dead. We held you..."

Susan turned to the Emperor. "How did this happen?"

"Jadis needed a body to enable her to use her full power." the Emperor said. "She thought that joining with Caspian, her own son, would make her more powerful and invincible. So she performed a binding ritual that joined their souls. It was unbreakable... or so Jadis thought. But the ritual originated from Charn, the accursed land the Witch herself came from. The Deep Magic fought the dark power that joined their souls, saving Caspian's before it burned along with hers. Of course," the Emperor looked at Caspian. "Caspian's invincible body helped."

"What do you mean?" Susan turned from the Emperor to Caspian. "Does it have to do with how only you can stab yourself?"

Caspian managed a sheepish look. "It's a long story."

"We have all the time in the world," Peter said.

"Unfortunately," the Emperor spoke. "I don't."

When Susan looked back at him, the Emperor-Over-The-Sea was still smiling, but his glistening blue eyes seemed to dim a little.

And then Susan remembered the silhouette of a man that stood over Caspian's body while all of the people in the battlefield got blinded by the piercinh, white light.

"It was you," Susan realized.

The Emperor nodded, that smile still etched on his face. "Yes, my dear."

Peter understood. "You were the one who manipulated the Deep Magic. You saved him."

"And now, I'm dying." the Emperor said casually, as if the words were meaningless. "I meddled with human affairs twice already. Saving Caspian, it was the last straw. I am now stripped of my powers and eternal life, and when I die, I will go back to the heavens where I came from."

Peter and Susan looked at each other, both of them wondering how much more loss and guilt could they possible handle.

"Do not worry, dear ones," the Emperor said. "This is my destiny. And yours, well... that is for you to decide, hmm?"

"I'll tell you what your destiny is," Caspian spoke behind them. "Narnia. And each other."

Peter managed a small, sad smile. "You're not coming back, are you?"

Caspian shook his head. "No, Pete, I'm not."

Susan's blue eyes widened. "What do you mean, you're not coming back? Of course, you're coming back!"

"I can't, Susan," Caspian said. "If I step off this beach, I will crumble to dust. Yes, I am alive, but I am also dead. My soul is alive but this body--" he gestured to himself. "--it's not. I may be able to come back, someday, but... but not today."

 _But you felt so warm_ , Susan wanted to say. Her vision clouded over and she wanted to wrench her tears out from her eyes.

"And," Caspian continued. He looked at Peter. "My father is there. My real father. I want to get to know him."

"What about Narnia?" Peter asked quietly.

"I am leaving her in good hands, aren't I?" Caspian clutched Peter's arm. "Sebastian?"

Peter blinked hard, trying to suppress his tears. He managed a laugh. "My name is Peter, brother. Always."

"As you say," Caspian smiled. " _High King_ Peter."

Susan felt her tears falling now. But, surprisingly, her heart didn't felt like tearing to pieces like earlier that morning when Caspian had said farewell. It felt... light. That somehow this felt... right.

 _Because this is not a farewell_ , Susan's heart seemed to be saying. _It's a see you later_.

"Just promise me one thing," Caspian continued, staring straight into Peter's blue eyes and then to Susan's. "Find your happy ever after. Okay?"

***

When Peter and Susan got back to the balcony of Caspian's bedchambers in Cair Paravel, back to the same position that made them feel that they had never gone to that beach at all, it was pouring rain.

The both of them stared at each other for a few heartbeats, letting the raindrops drench them from head to toe.

Before they knew it, they were surging into each other's arms, locked tight in an embrace and lips meeting in a mindblowing kiss.

It was a passionate kiss, almost frantic. Peter pressed Susan against the railing of the balcony as he moved himself even more closer to her, as if there was an inch of space between them. His hands were on her arms, on her waist, on her neck... everywhere at once. And she was continuously pulling him to her, also couldn't get enough of their close proximity. Her fingers were buried in his blonde hair, gliding and grabbing, and her arms were tight around him. The railings were digging on her lower back but she was vaguely aware of it. He was close... but still not close enough.

Their bodies were pressed together that they didn't know whose was whose; their hands were so warm, so velvety to each other's touch that they couldn't think about anything else that could ever match the feeling to each other's skin; their kisses were intense, bordering on hungry, that coming up for air was far, _far_ away from each other's minds.

It was pouring rain, torrents of water were cascasding down their skin, but neither of them cared. The moment was perfect. So, _so_ perfect.

When they broke apart, breathless, their arms still around each other, and Peter rubbed his nose against Susan's, she mumured, "Who knew I would ever fall for you, Peter the Magnificent."

"Well, I accidentally fell for you, too, Susan Pevensie," Peter countered, smiling.

"The universe really has a funny way in bringing people together, doesn't it?" she tilted her head back, eyes closed, to feel the raindrops on her face.

"Yeah," he replied. Peter stared at Susan for a few heartbeats, and for a moment he forgot about everything. About Narnia, about the Emperor, about the recently ended war, about Caspian... he was just Peter, a boy who was hopelessly in love with a girl.

"Marry me, Su," he said softly.

Susan brought her head back down to meet his gaze. Trickles of rain were running down her forehead, to her eyelashes, to her cheeks, to her lips... and in that moment, Peter never knew anyone more beautiful than her.

"But you hate me," she murmured playfully, eyes dancing brightly under the rainy, night sky.

"Wrong. I love you," Peter said.

"I annoy you,"

"Well--" Peter squinted his eyes, pretending to think.

"And," Susan continued, a playful smile tugged on her lips. "You do know that I never, ever back down from a fight, right?"

"Yes, I _do_ know that."

"So?"

"Well, then," Peter tightened his arms around her waist, pulling her close. "I guess I have to deal with it for the rest of my life."

Susan laughed. She ran her fingers against Peter's blonde hair. She couldn't say her heart were doing plummets inside her chest. Because, in that moment, she had never been more calm in her entire existence.

"I'm looking forward to that, My King," she murmured.

Peter smiled and Susan could swear that little perfect moment of theirs got even more perfect.

"Likewise, _My Queen._ "

She pulled him down for a long, deep, gentle kiss.

And in that moment, they knew, without a single doubt, that they have found their happy ever after.

Just like what they had promised Caspian.


	56. Epilogue

"Tell me a story, Aunt Lu," a blonde-haired boy of ten spoke from his king-sized bed, underneath a thick layer of duvet, as he stared down at the opened book he had on his lap.

Lucy Pevensie, having just entered the boy's bedchambers to check on her beloved nephew if he had gone to sleep (she had been doing that ever since the boy learned to read; he had taken after his mother his addiction to books) raised her eyebrows in surprise and couldn't help but look at the book he was clutching.

It was the first time, ever since the boy could read, that he had asked a bedtime story from Lucy.

"Sure," the twenty-four year old Pevensie tucked her long, brown hair behind her ear and snuggled beside the boy beneath his duvet. "About what?"

"About mother and father," the boy replied.

Lucy glanced down at his book and saw two portraits: the left one depicting a young man with black hair that almost reached his shoulder, and the right one depicting the blonde-haired King of Narnia and his raven-haired Queen. The boy was running his fingers over the embossed and majestically written words under the King and Queen's depictions.

" _High King Peter the Magnificent and his queen, Queen Susan the Gentle."_

"And Uncle Caspian." the boy looked up at Lucy with his bright, blue eyes.

Lucy still remembered how these portraits came to be. The first one was just before that celebratory ball twelve years ago, the same celebratory ball that began the Second Great War against the White Witch. The second one was the day after the wedding and coronation of the High King and Queen of Narnia.

Lucy always thought that Susan almost looked like their mother in that portrait. Of course, without that gold crown on her head and that cape around her shoulders.

"What do you want to hear?" Lucy asked.

"Everything. How you, Uncle Ed, and Mother got to Narnia." the young Prince replied. "Oh, and how Mother and Father got together."

"I thought you already know everything."

"From books," the boy reasoned. "From a stranger's point of view. I want to hear the story from my own family."

"But your parents already told you everything."

"Not everything," the boy promised. "I think."

 _And stubborn_ , Lucy thought. _He got that stubborness from his mother, too._

"Didn't you ask your Uncle Edmund?"

"You know how he is, Aunt Lu," the boy smiled a bit. "I think the mere sight of my parents together makes him nauseous."

_Humor and wit. Peter._

Lucy laughed. "You would think that after a decade of them being together, your Uncle Ed would get used to it."

The boy laughed along with her. "Apparently, not."

"Well, let's see," Lucy started, pausing to remember. It had been so long. "As you know, your mother, your Uncle Ed, and I tumbled into this world literally through a wardrobe from another world." The youngest Pevensie sibling chuckled as bits and pieces of that day returned to her memory. "If you could only see the disbelief on your mother's face when she found herself in Lantern Waste!"

"And then she got attacked by a Minotaur! And Father saved her."

"Yes. And they hated each other's guts ever since." Lucy laughed.

"Did they really hate each other that much, Aunt Lu?"

"Very much. She once shot an arrow on a target two inches from his nose."

"No way!" the boy laughed. "But Uncle Caspian, he made them get along."

"Your uncle loved your mother very much. And she had loved him, too. That is, before she realized she loved your father more."

The Prince looked back down at the portrait of King Caspian. "That was why he turned over to the Witch's side."

Lucy looked at her young nephew. Sometimes, she hated how Peter and Susan gave their son unlimited access to the library. These things were supposed to be left a mystery until, at least, the Prince comes of right age.

"No," Lucy put her hands around the young boy's shoulders. "The Witch poisoned your Uncle's mind and led him to believe that what he was doing was right. But he loved your mother and father, he loved us."

"I know," the boy glanced up at her, his blue eyes all knowing. "That's why he sacrificed himself to save Narnia."

 _Yes, he did_. Lucy thought.

"I'm glad that Mother and Father ended up together," the boy said. "Even though Father is, like, five hundred years older than Mother."

Lucy laughed again. "You _should_ be glad because if they hadn't ended up together, you would never have been born." She rustled the boy's blonde hair fondly.

When Lucy finally convinced the young Prince to put down his book and settle down on his bed and as she pulled his duvet tightly around him to fend off the mid-winter chill, the boy said, "I just... I wished I got the chance to know Uncle Caspian, Aunt Lu." He drifted off to sleep.

Lucy hesitated.

Then she bent over and kissed her nephew's forehead. "Don't worry, Arthur," she whispered. "Caspian's not dead. And you _will_ get your chance to know him. Soon."

\- FIN


End file.
